Poem by Jewell Bothwell Tull: To Socrates (1926)

Socrates Statue at the Louvre. Marble, Roman artwork (1st century), perhaps a copy of a lost bronze statue made by Lysippos. | Wikimedia Commons
I too have drunk the poisoned cup,
And felt the death-chill creep
Until it reached my tortured heart
That wanted sleep.
But someone snatched the cup away
And would not let me die.
It is my heart alone that’s dead,
Not I.