The Soul selects her own Society
Emily Dickinson, 1890
Emily Dickinson's poem of a soul that chooses its own few companions and then shuts out all others.
The soul selects her own society,Then shuts the door;On her divine majorityObtrude no more.
Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausingAt her low gate;Unmoved, an emperor is kneelingUpon her mat.
I’ve known her from an ample nationChoose one;Then close the valves of her attentionLike stone.