Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Precedence

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!

1. Going
2. Who Robbed the Woods
3. Their Height in Heaven Comforts Not
4. If I Should Die
5. Lay This Laurel on the One

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