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I Read my Sentence’€”steadily

412
 
I read my sentence’—steadily’—
Reviewed it with my eyes,
To see that I made no mistake
In its extremest clause’—
The Date, and manner, of the shame’—
And then the Pious Form
That “God have mercy” on the Soul
The Jury voted Him’—
I made my soul familiar’—with her extremity’—
That at the last, it should not be a novel Agony’—
But she, and Death, acquainted’—
Meet tranquilly, as friends’—
Salute, and pass, without a Hint’—
And there, the Matter ends’—
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