Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

1121. While It Is Alive 1/13/2003
1122. Who Court Obtain Within Himself 1/13/2003
1123. Who Giants Know, With Lesser Men 1/13/2003
1124. Who Never Lost, Are Unprepared 1/13/2003
1125. Who Occupies This House? 1/13/2003
1126. Who Were 'The Father And The Son' 3/3/2015
1127. Whole Gulfs - of Red, and Fleets 4/17/2015
1128. Whose Are The Little Beds, I Asked 1/13/2003
1129. Whose Cheek Is This? 1/13/2003
1130. Why Do I Love You, Sir? 1/1/2004
1131. Why Make It Doubt—it Hurts It So 1/1/2004
1132. Why&Mdash;Do They Shut Me Out Of Heaven? 1/13/2003
1133. Wild Nights! Wild Nights! 12/31/2002
1134. Will There Really Be A "Morning"? 1/13/2003
1135. Witchcraft Was Hung, In History 3/17/2015
1136. With A Flower 1/2/2015
1137. With Thee, In The Desert 1/13/2003
1138. Within My Garden, Rides A Bird 1/13/2003
1139. Within My Reach! 1/13/2003
1140. Without This—there Is Nought 1/1/2004
1141. Wolfe Demanded During Dying 1/13/2003
1142. Woodpecker, The 12/31/2002
1143. work For Immortality 1/1/2004
1144. Would You Like Summer? Taste Of Ours 1/13/2003
1145. Yesterday Is History 3/17/2015
1146. You Cannot Put A Fire Out 1/13/2003
1147. You Constituted Time 1/13/2003
1148. You Know That Portrait In The Moon 1/13/2003
1149. You left me—Sire—two Legacies 1/13/2003
1150. You Love Me—you Are Sure 1/1/2004
1151. You Love The Lord—you Cannot See 1/1/2004
1152. You Said That I 1/1/2004
1153. You See I Cannot See—your Lifetime 1/1/2004
1154. You Taught Me Waiting With Myself 1/13/2003
1155. You'Ll Find—it When You Try To Die 1/1/2004
1156. You'Ll Know Her—by Her Foot 1/1/2004
1157. You'Ll Know It—as You Know 'Tis Noon 1/1/2004
1158. Your Riches—taught Me—poverty 1/1/2004
1159. You'Re Right— 1/1/2004
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 Send Two Sunsets

308

I send Two Sunsets—
Day and I—in competition ran—
I finished Two—and several Stars—
While He—was making One—

His own was ampler—but as I
Was saying to a friend—
Mine—is the more convenient
To Carry in the Hand—

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