Date: 1890

"The soul selects her own society, / Then shuts the door; / On her divine majority / Obtrude no more."

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)

Date: 1892

"I found the phrase to every thought / I ever had, but one; / And that defies me,--as a hand / Did try to chalk the sun // To races nurtured in the dark."

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)

Date: 1892

"Hope is the thing with feathers / That perches in the soul, / And sings the tune without the words, / And never stops at all, // And sweetest in the gale is heard."

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)

Date: 1892

"Dare you see a soul at the white heat?"

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)

Date: 1892

"Least village boasts its blacksmith, / Whose anvil's even din / Stands symbol for the finer forge / That soundless tugs within, // Refining these impatient ores / With hammer and with blaze, / Until the designated light / Repudiate the forge."

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)

Date: 1892

"The thought beneath so slight a film / Is more distinctly seen,-- / As laces just reveal the surge, / Or mists the Apennine."

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)

Date: 1892

"The  soul  unto itself / Is an imperial friend,— / Or the most agonizing spy / An enemy could send."

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)

Date: 1892

Secure against its own, / No treason it can fear; / Itself its sovereign, of itself / The soul should stand in awe."

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)

Date: 1892

"The angels, happening that way, / This dusty heart espied."

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)

Date: 1892

"A shady friend for torrid days / Is easier to find / Than one of higher temperature / For frigid hour of mind."

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)