Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

441. No Man Can Compass A Despair 1/13/2003
442. The Fingers Of The Light 1/13/2003
443. Those Fair—fictitious People 1/1/2004
444. Only God—detect The Sorrow 1/1/2004
445. The Outer—from The Inner 1/1/2004
446. The Sunrise Runs For Both 1/13/2003
447. 'Tis Little I—could Care For Pearls 1/1/2004
448. So Has A Daisy Vanished 1/13/2003
449. Heaven Has Different Signs—to Me 1/1/2004
450. Her Sweet Weight On My Heart A Night 1/13/2003
451. Yesterday Is History 3/17/2015
452. Love—thou Art High 1/1/2004
453. Time Feels So Vast That Were It Not 1/13/2003
454. The Flower Must Not Blame The Bee 1/13/2003
455. Mama Never Forgets Her Birds 1/13/2003
456. Her Smile Was Shaped Like Other Smiles 1/13/2003
457. It's Such A Little Thing To Weep 1/13/2003
458. If This Is "Fading" 1/13/2003
459. The Soul's Distinct Connection 1/13/2003
460. I Tie My Hat—i Crease My Shawl 1/1/2004
461. I Rose—because He Sank 1/1/2004
462. How firm Eternity must look 4/6/2016
463. We See&Mdash;Comparatively 1/13/2003
464. The Spirit Is The Conscious Ear 1/13/2003
465. Where Ships Of Purple—gently Toss 1/1/2004
466. Through Lane It Lay—through Bramble 1/1/2004
467. 'Tis Sunrise&Mdash;Little Maid&Mdash;Hast Thou 1/13/2003
468. 'Tis One By One — The Father Counts 1/13/2003
469. I Pay—in Satin Cash 1/1/2004
470. The Morns Are Meeker Than They Were 1/13/2003
471. Whose Cheek Is This? 1/13/2003
472. Like Brooms of Steel 8/13/2016
473. Musicians Wrestle Everywhere 1/13/2003
474. I'M 1/1/2004
475. There Is A Languor Of The Life 1/13/2003
476. She Hideth Her The Last 1/13/2003
477. Perhaps You Think Me Stooping 1/13/2003
478. The Trees Like Tassels—hit—and Swung 1/1/2004
479. The Love A Life Can Show Below 1/13/2003
480. The Nearest Dream Recedes, Unrealized. 12/31/2002

Comments about Emily Dickinson

  • Jessica Knight Jessica Knight (4/10/2012 10:32:00 PM)

    I think a lot of my writing comes out more subconscious and even though she isn't recent... she was the first poet I could relate with. I'm about to be 20 and the dark years of childhood, childhood, what ever little that was... was brought a little light from her way. I was then opened up to others like Ginsberg, Kerouac, Hemingway, Whitman, Carroll, Sexton, Corso, Poe, etc. I can't really think of any other form of expression that gets me and through everything I'm sure she'd feel the same if she were still alive.

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  • John Lavelle (12/12/2011 7:58:00 PM)

    Dickinson is the greatest of all American poets and, along with Shakespeare, among the greatest in the English language. Through her original, unconventional use of diction, rhyme, and punctuation, she transmits Morse code-like messages to the soul. Those with ears to hear, let them hear. Let the others continue condemning her poetry as incoherent babble. 'Much madness is divinest sense to a discerning eye.'

  • Bonnie Lundgren (7/24/2011 7:21:00 PM)

    Possibly one of my favorite poets. She does write some weird or slightly dark poetry, but a lot of her poems say things in a way which is at once memorable, concise and curiously true. I'd love to write more like her.

  • Juan Olivarez Juan Olivarez (4/28/2011 10:58:00 AM)

    The only injury to american poetry is by that imbecile Lawrence Beck.

  • Kenneth Belknap (4/1/2011 10:34:00 PM)

    @SamIam you threw out the illiterate nitwit so I'm not going to be too worried about being insulting. The dashes were hers, there are very good fascimiles of her handwritten poems available. They are considered to be a device used to fracture the language by many, or as an idiosyncracy by others... like perhaps when she was trying to think of the next word she would make a dash. Either way since she did not publish while she was alive the truest any 'illiterate nitwit' transcribing her poems can be is to include everything she wrote, dashes and all. You are not the only one to make ignorant comments about her, but yours was on the top so it got the response.

  • Sam Iam (2/19/2011 10:00:00 PM)

    While I love Emily Dickinson, I'm quite certain she was intelligent enough to know not to punctuate her poetry with dashes. What illiterate nitwit transcribed this stuff?

  • Cassandra Wylie (8/31/2010 4:36:00 PM)

    Then, Lawrence, you insensitive imbecile, don't read it.

  • Lawrence Beck Lawrence Beck (8/1/2010 7:46:00 AM)

    Emily Dickinson was insane. Her 'poetry' is incoherent babble. Generations of gullible readers, mistaking incoherence for profundity, have celebrated dear Emily, and emulated her. In doing so, they have gravely injured American poetry.

  • Amy Marie Amy Marie (2/6/2010 2:38:00 PM)

    I love her Originality.. ;) Her dashes and capitalization are great!

  • fleur de lys (7/26/2009 5:04:00 PM)

    She is like a vestal virgin with devotional ties to her poetry.

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

A Mien To Move A Queen


A Mien to move a Queen—
Half Child—Half Heroine—
An Orleans in the Eye
That puts its manner by
For humbler Company
When none are near
Even a Tear—

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