The Imprisoned Soul

by Walt Whitman

　　AT the last, tenderly, From the walls of the powerful, fortress'd house, From the clasp of the knitted locks—from the keep of the well-closed doors, Let me be wafted. Let me glide noiselessly forth; With the key of softness unlock the locks—with a whisper Set ope the doors, O soul! Tenderly! be not impatient! (Strong is your hold, O mortal flesh! Strong is your hold, O love!)