Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

Emily Dickinson Poems

1. Said Death To Passion 4/10/2015
2. September's Baccalaureate 4/21/2015
3. Spring comes on the World 5/5/2015
4. The inundation of the Spring 5/5/2015
5. He Preached Upon 'Breadth' Till It Argued Him Narrow — 5/11/2015
6. High From The Earth I Heard A Bird 5/21/2015
7. Whose Pink career may have a close 7/4/2015
8. Longing is like the Seed 7/24/2015
9. His voice decrepit was with Joy 9/2/2015
10. STEP lightly on this narrow spot 10/20/2015
11. I am afraid to own a Body 11/26/2015
12. The Hills in Purple syllables 1/30/2016
13. Oh Shadow on the Grass 2/8/2016
14. Warm in her Hand these accents lie 2/18/2016
15. Glory is that bright tragic thing 2/29/2016
16. Let me not mar that perfect Dream 3/11/2016
17. The Clover's simple Fame 4/8/2016
18. Whether they have forgotten 4/13/2016
19. By homely gift and hindered Words 4/15/2016
20. Down Time's quaint stream 7/12/2016
21. A train went through a burial gate 7/22/2016
22. As old as Woe 7/29/2016
23. The Spider as an Artist 8/8/2016
24. As subtle as tomorrow 7/20/2016
25. Tell as a Marksman - were forgotten 4/13/2016
26. Not Sickness stains the Brave, 2/26/2016
27. Of so divine a Loss 3/30/2016
28. To the bright east she flies, 2/29/2016
29. These Fevered Days - to take them to the Forest 2/11/2016
30. The Hills erect their Purple Heads 1/30/2016
31. If all the griefs I am to have 11/26/2015
32. Witchcraft Has Not A Pedigree 11/13/2015
33. Of Yellow was the outer Sky 9/7/2015
34. The Duties Of The Wind Are Few 5/11/2015
35. A Pang is more conspicuous in Spring 5/5/2015
36. I Saw The Wind Within Her 5/12/2015
37. I Bet With Every Wind That Blew 5/12/2015
38. The Work Of Her That Went 5/13/2015
39. Sometimes with the Heart 4/29/2015
40. Whole Gulfs - of Red, and Fleets 4/17/2015
Best Poem of Emily Dickinson

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

'Hope' is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

Read the full of Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

I Died For Beauty

I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.

He questioned softly why I failed?
"For beauty," I replied.
"And I for truth - the two are one;
We brethren are," he said.

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