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—
Emily Dickinson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-read-my-sentence-steadily/