Explore "Choice" by Emily Dickinson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Of all the souls that stand create / I have elected one.
When sense from spirit files away, / And subterfuge is done;
When that which is and that which was / Apart, intrinsic, stand, / And this brief tragedy of flesh / Is shifted like a sand;
When figures show their royal front / And mists are carved away, -- / Behold the atom I preferred / To all the lists of clay!