Explore "Precedence" by Emily Dickinson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Wait till the majesty of Death / Invests so mean a brow!
Almost a powdered footman / Might dare to touch it now!
Wait till in everlasting robes / This democrat is dressed, / Then prate about "preferment"
And "station" and the rest!
Around this quiet courtier / Obsequious angels wait!
Full royal is his retinue, / Full purple is his state!
A lord might dare to lift the hat / To such a modest clay, / Since that my Lord, "the Lord of lords"
Receives unblushingly!