Wait till the Majesty of Death

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
That 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!

Rate this poem:(0.00 / 0 votes)
203 Views

Emily Dickinson

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson was an American poet. more…

All Emily Dickinson poems | Emily Dickinson Books

FAVORITE (45 fans)

Translation

Find a translation for this poem in other languages:

Select another language:

Discuss this Emily Dickinson poem with the community:

Citation

Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:

Style:MLAChicagoAPA

"Wait till the Majesty of Death by Emily Dickinson" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 18 Jan. 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/12399>.

We need you!

Help us build the largest poetry community and poems collection on the web!

Thanks for your vote! We truly appreciate your support.