207 The Soul Selects Her Own Society (ca. 1858-1865 ) By Emily Dickinson


The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.

Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.

I’ve known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.


Poems: Three Series, Complete, Emily Dickinson,  Public Domain

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