A TORTURE-CHAMBER was the world to me, Where I suspended by the feet did hang; Hot pincers gave my body many a pang, A vice of iron crush'd me fearfully. I wildly cried in nameless agony, From mouth and eyes the blood in torrents sprang, -- A maid passed by, who a gold hammer swang, And presently the coup-de-grace gave she. My quivering limbs she scans with eager eye, My tongue protruding, as death's hour draws nigh, From out my bleeding mouth, -- a ghastly sight, My heart's wild pantings hears she with delight; My last death-rattle music is the while To her, who stands with cold and mocking smile. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT BETHLEHEM: 3. TO HIS MOTHER by JOHN BANISTER TABB THE PRINCESS; A MEDLEY by ALFRED TENNYSON TO FORTUNE by JAMES THOMSON (1700-1748) COME UP HIGHER by MINNIE KEITH BAILEY AN UNWRITTEN TRAGEDY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |