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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JOY OF THE HILLS by EDWIN MARKHAM THIRTY BOB A WEEK by JOHN DAVIDSON A DEATH SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONG OF SUMMER by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONNET: 109 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE FAUSTINE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |