Upon the gallows hung a wretch

Upon the gallows hung a wretch,
Too sullied for the hell
To which the law entitled him.
As nature's curtain fell
The one who bore him tottered in,
For this was woman's son.
'T was all I had,' she stricken gasped;
Oh, what a livid boon!

More poems by Emily Dickinson

I felt a funeral in my brain

I felt a funeral in my brain, / And mourners, to and fro,

Emily Dickinson

THE ORIOLE'S SECRET - To hear an oriole sing

To hear an oriole sing / May be a common thing,

Emily Dickinson

Is bliss, then, such abyss

Is bliss, then, such abyss / I must not put my foot amiss

Emily Dickinson

EMANCIPATION

No rack can torture me, / My soul's at liberty

Emily Dickinson

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