XXXV
Emancipation
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.