For his lawyers Were in these hours petitioning. He would ask: "No news? No word? What is the time?" His tongue Would fall back in his throat, we saw the strain Of his stretched soul. He'd sit upon his couch Hands clasped, head down. Arise and hold the bars, Himself fling on the couch face down and shake. But when he heard the hammers ring that nail The scaffold into shape, he whirled around Like a rat in a cage. And when the sand bag fell, That tested out the rope, a muffled thug, And the rope creaked, he started up and moaned "You're getting ready," and his body shivered, His white hands could not hold the bars, he reeled And fell upon the couch again. Suppose There was no whiskey and no morphia, Except for what the parsons think fit use, A poor weak fellow--not a Socrates-- Must march the gallows, walk with every nerve Up-bristled like a hair in fright. This night Was much too horrible for me. At last I had the doctor dope him unaware, And for a time he slept. But when the dawn Looked through the little windows near the ceiling Cob-webbed and grimed, with light like sanded water, And echoes started in the corridors Of feet and objects moved, then all at once He sprang up from his sleep, and gave a groan, Half yell, that shook us all. A clergyman Came soon to pray with him, and he grew calmer, And said: "O pray for her, but pray for me That I may see her, when this riddle-world No longer stands between us, slipped from her And soon from me." For breakfast he took coffee, A piece of toast, no more. The sickening hour Approaches--he is sitting on his couch, Bent over, head in hands, dazed, or in prayer. My deputy reads the warrant--while I stand At one side so to hear, but not to see. And then my clerk comes quickly through the door That opens from the office in the jail; Runs up the iron steps, all out of breath, And almost shouts: "The governor telephones To stop; the sentence is commuted." Then I grew as weak as the culprit--took the warrant, And stepped up to the cell's door, coughed, inhaled, And after getting breath I said: "Good news, The governor has saved you." Then he laughed, Half fell against the bars, and like a rag Sank in a heap. I don't know to this day What moved the governor. For crazy men Are hanged sometimes. To-day he leaves the jail. We take him where the criminal insane Are housed at our expense. * * * * *