He put the belt around my life,— I heard the buckle snap, And turned away, imperial, My lifetime folding up Deliberate, as a duke would do A kingdom’s title-deed,— Henceforth a dedicated sort, A member of the cloud. Yet not too far to come at call, And do the little toils That make the circuit of the rest, And deal occasional smiles To lives that stoop to notice mine And kindly ask it in,— Whose invitation, knew you not For whom I must decline? Emily Dickinson