Exclusion

First print Life XIII, 13
J poem 303 | Fr poem 409

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.

LINK TO EMILY DICKINSON BOOKS

The text may be used under any of the following licenses:
CREATIVE COMMONS LICENSE 4.0,
CREATIVE COMMONS LICENSE BY-SA 3.0,
CREATIVE COMMONS LICENSE 2.5.
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