'Twas like a Maelstrom, with a notch,
That nearer, every Day,
Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel
Until the Agony
Toyed coolly with the final inch
Of your delirious Hem--
And you dropt,lost,
When something broke--
And let you from a Dream--
As if a Goblin with a Gauge--
Kept measuring the Hours--
Until you felt your Second
Weigh, helpless, in his Paws--
And not a Sinew--stirred--could help,
And sense was setting numb--
When God--remembered--and the Fiend
Let go, then, Overcome--
As if your Sentence stood--pronounced--
And you were frozen led
From Dungeon's luxury of Doubt
To Gibbets, and the Dead--
And when the Film had stitched your eyes
A Creature gasped "Reprieve"!
Which Anguish was the utterest--then--
To perish, or to live?
(1862)