The Soul has Bandaged moments – When too appalled to stir – She feels some ghastly Fright come up And stop to look at her –

Salute her, with long fingers – Caress her freezing hair – Sip, Goblin, from the very lips The Lover – hovered – o’er – Unworthy, that a thought so mean Accost a Theme – so – fair ­–

"The soul has moments of escape – When bursting all the doors – She dances like a Bomb, abroad, And swings opon the Hours,

As do the Bee – delirious borne – Long Dungeoned from his Rose – Touch Liberty – then know no more, But Noon, and Paradise –

The Soul’s retaken moments – When, Felon led along, With shackles on the plumed feet, And staples, in the song,

The Horror welcomes her, again, These, are not brayed of Tongue –" - E. Dickinson