The Soul Unto Itself

Emily Dickinson

683

The Soul unto itself
Is an imperial friend—
Or the most agonizing Spy—
An Enemy—could send—

Secure against its own—
No treason it can fear—
Itself—its Sovereign—of itself
The Soul should stand in Awe—

Next 10 Poems

• Emily Dickinson : The Soul's Distinct Connection
• Emily Dickinson : The Soul's Superior Instants
• Emily Dickinson : The Spider As An Artist
• Emily Dickinson : The Spider Holds A Silver Ball
• Emily Dickinson : The Spirit Is The Conscious Ear
• Emily Dickinson : The Spirit Lasts-but In What Mode-
• Emily Dickinson : The Spry Arms Of The Wind
• Emily Dickinson : The Stars Are Old, That Stood For Me-
• Emily Dickinson : The Stem Of A Departed Flower
• Emily Dickinson : The Stimulus, Beyond The Grave

Previous 10 Poems

• Emily Dickinson : The Soul That Hath A Guest
• Emily Dickinson : The Soul Should Always Stand Ajar
• Emily Dickinson : The Soul Selects Her Own Society
• Emily Dickinson : The Soul Has Bandaged Moments
• Emily Dickinson : The Snow That Never Drifts-
• Emily Dickinson : The Smouldering Embers Blush-
• Emily Dickinson : The Sky Is Low, The Clouds Are Mean,
• Emily Dickinson : The Skies Can't Keep Their Secret!
• Emily Dickinson : The Show Is Not The Show,
• Emily Dickinson : The Service Without Hope