The Soul Selects Her Own Society

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.

 

– Emily Dickinson

 

Art: Vision of the Soul by Elvira Baranova

 

 

 

 

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