414 <br /> <br />'Twas like a Maelstrom, with a notch, <br />That nearer, every Day, <br />Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel <br />Until the Agony <br /> <br />Toyed coolly with the final inch <br />Of your delirious Hem— <br />And you dropt, lost, <br />When something broke— <br />And let you from a Dream— <br /> <br />As if a Goblin with a Gauge— <br />Kept measuring the Hours— <br />Until you felt your Second <br />Weigh, helpless, in his Paws— <br /> <br />And not a Sinew—stirred—could help, <br />And sense was setting numb— <br />When God—remembered—and the Fiend <br />Let go, then, Overcome— <br /> <br />As if your Sentence stood—pronounced— <br />And you were frozen led <br />From Dungeon's luxury of Doubt <br />To Gibbets, and the Dead— <br /> <br />And when the Film had stitched your eyes <br />A Creature gasped "Reprieve"! <br />Which Anguish was the utterest—then— <br />To perish, or to live?<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/twas-like-a-maelstrom-with-a-notch/
