No rack can torture me,My soul’s at libertyBehind this mortal boneThere knits a bolder one You cannot prick with saw,Nor rend with scymitar.Two bodies therefore be;Bind one, and one will flee. The eagle of his nestNo easier divestAnd gain the sky,Than mayest thou, Except thyself may beThine enemy;Captivity is consciousness,So’s liberty. The Poems of Emily…

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