The Soul selects her own Society by Emily Dickinson
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 --
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