An Emily Dickinson Poem

Escape is such a thankful Word
I often in the Night
Consider it unto myself
No spectacle in sight

Escape -- it is the Basket
In which the Heart is caught
When down some awful Battlement
The rest of Life is dropt --

'Tis not to sight the savior --
It is to be the saved --
And that is why I lay my Head
Upon this trusty word --