Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

121. 'Arcturus' Is His Other Name 1/13/2003
122. Are Friends Delight Or Pain 12/10/2014
123. Artists Wrestled Here! 1/13/2003
124. As By The Dead We Love To Sit 1/13/2003
125. As Children Bid The Guest "Good Night" 1/13/2003
126. As Everywhere Of Silver 1/13/2003
127. As Far From Pity, As Complaint 1/13/2003
128. As from the earth the light Balloon 5/29/2015
129. As Frost Is Best Conceived 1/13/2003
130. As If I Asked A Common Alms 1/13/2003
131. As If Some Little Arctic Flower 1/13/2003
132. As If The Sea Should Part 1/13/2003
133. As Imperceptibly As Grief 1/13/2003
134. As One Does Sickness Over 1/13/2003
135. As Plan For Noon And Plan For Night 1/13/2003
136. As Sleigh Bells Seem In Summer 1/13/2003
137. As The Starved Maelstrom Laps The Navies 1/13/2003
138. As Watchers Hang Upon The East 1/13/2003
139. At Last, To Be Identified! 1/13/2003
140. At Least—to Pray—is Left—is Left 1/1/2004
141. Autumn&Mdash;Overlooked My Knitting 1/13/2003
142. Awake Ye Muses Nine, Sing Me A Strain Divine 1/13/2003
143. Away From Home Are Some And I— 1/1/2004
144. Baffled For Just A Day Or Two 1/13/2003
145. Banish Air From Air&Mdash; 1/13/2003
146. Be Mine The Doom&Mdash; 1/13/2003
147. Beauty&Mdash;Be Not Caused&Mdash;It Is 1/13/2003
148. Because I Could Not Stop For Death 1/20/2003
149. Because The Bee May Blameless Hum 1/13/2003
150. Beclouded 1/3/2003
151. Bee! I'M Expecting You! 1/13/2003
152. Before He Comes We Weigh The Time! 1/13/2003
153. Before I Got My Eye Put Out 1/13/2003
154. Before The Ice Is In The Pools 1/13/2003
155. Before You Thought Of Spring, 5/14/2001
156. Behind Me Dips Eternity 1/13/2003
157. Bereaved Of All, I Went Abroad 1/13/2003
158. Bereavement In Their Death To Feel 1/13/2003
159. Besides The Autumn Poets Sing 1/13/2003
160. Besides This May 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.

[Report Error]