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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