Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

81. After A Hundred Years 5/14/2001
82. After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes 5/14/2001
83. Again&Mdash;His Voice Is At The Door 1/13/2003
84. Ah, Moon—and Star! 1/1/2004
85. Ah, Teneriffe! 1/13/2003
86. All But Death, Can Be Adjusted 1/13/2003
87. All Circumstances Are The Frame 1/13/2003
88. All Forgot For Recollecting 1/13/2003
89. All I May, If Small 1/13/2003
90. All Men For Honor Hardest Work 5/13/2015
91. All Overgrown By Cunning Moss 1/13/2003
92. All The Letters I Can Write 1/13/2003
93. All These My Banners Be 1/13/2003
94. Alone, I Cannot Be 1/13/2003
95. Alter! When The Hills Do 1/13/2003
96. Although I Put Away His Life 1/13/2003
97. Always Mine! 1/13/2003
98. Ambition Cannot Find Him 1/13/2003
99. Ample Make This Bed. 5/14/2001
100. An Altered Look About The Hills 1/13/2003
101. An Antiquated Tree 12/24/2014
102. An Awful Tempest Mashed The Air 1/13/2003
103. An English Breeze 5/14/2001
104. An Everywhere Of Silver 5/14/2001
105. An Hour Is A Sea 1/13/2003
106. An Ignorance A Sunset 1/13/2003
107. And This Of All My Hopes 1/13/2003
108. And with what body do they come 5/21/2015
109. Angels, In The Early Morning 1/13/2003
110. Answer July 1/13/2003
111. Apology For Her 1/13/2003
112. Apparently With No Surprise 1/3/2003
113. Arcturus 1/1/2004
114. 'Arcturus' Is His Other Name 1/13/2003
115. Are Friends Delight Or Pain 12/10/2014
116. Artists Wrestled Here! 1/13/2003
117. As By The Dead We Love To Sit 1/13/2003
118. As Children Bid The Guest "Good Night" 1/13/2003
119. As Everywhere Of Silver 1/13/2003
120. As Far From Pity, As Complaint 1/13/2003
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.

[Hata Bildir]