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The Soul selects her own Society-
Then-shuts the Door-
To her divine Majority-
Present no more-
Unmoved-she notes the Chariots-pausing-
At her low Gate-
Unmoved-an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat-
I've known her-from an ample nation-
Choose One-
Then-close the Valves of her attention-
Like Stone-
The Soul Selects Her Own Society
Emily Dickinson
(1)
Poem topics: soul, society, door, attention, divine, nation, stone, choose, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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