Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

1. Whole Gulfs - of Red, and Fleets 4/17/2015
2. Some Days retired from the rest 4/18/2015
3. A little Madness in the Spring 5/5/2015
4. The inundation of the Spring 5/5/2015
5. How Slow The Wind 5/12/2015
6. Lives He In Any Other World 5/12/2015
7. The Work Of Her That Went 5/13/2015
8. And with what body do they come 5/21/2015
9. Whose Pink career may have a close 7/4/2015
10. Longing is like the Seed 7/24/2015
11. Image of Light, Adieu 7/21/2015
12. Rearrange a 'Wife's' affection! 9/3/2015
13. My Cocoon Tightens, Colors Tease 10/20/2015
14. Witchcraft Has Not A Pedigree 11/13/2015
15. STEP lightly on this narrow spot 10/20/2015
16. Of Yellow was the outer Sky 9/7/2015
17. How fits his Umber Coat 7/6/2015
18. The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants 6/18/2015
19. If Ever The Lid Gets Off My Head 5/12/2015
20. I Bet With Every Wind That Blew 5/12/2015
21. As from the earth the light Balloon 5/29/2015
22. Not with a club, the Heart is broken 6/4/2015
23. The Spry Arms Of The Wind 5/11/2015
24. I Saw The Wind Within Her 5/12/2015
25. He Preached Upon 'Breadth' Till It Argued Him Narrow — 5/11/2015
26. Escape is such a thankful Word 5/8/2015
27. Silence is all we dread 4/24/2015
28. Said Death To Passion 4/10/2015
29. Sometimes with the Heart 4/29/2015
30. The Notice that is called the Spring 5/5/2015
31. The Duties Of The Wind Are Few 5/11/2015
32. There is no Silence in the Earth 5/29/2015
33. The Going From A World We Know 5/12/2015
34. She could not live upon the Past 6/17/2015
35. His voice decrepit was with Joy 9/2/2015
36. It stole along so stealthy 6/25/2015
37. Is It Too Late To Touch You, Dear? 9/10/2015
38. Growth of Man - like Growth of Nature -new- 11/20/2015
39. All Men For Honor Hardest Work 5/13/2015
40. High From The Earth I Heard A Bird 5/21/2015
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

The Blue Jay

No brigadier throughout the year
So civic as the jay.
A neighbor and a warrior too,
With shrill felicity

Pursuing winds that censure us
A February day,
The brother of the universe
Was never blown away.

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