(13)

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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.