Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

481. If Anybody's Friend Be Dead 1/13/2003
482. The Beggar Lad&Mdash;Dies Early 1/13/2003
483. I Read My Sentence—steadily 1/1/2004
484. The Dying Need But Little, Dear,-- 5/15/2001
485. The Manner Of Its Death 1/13/2003
486. Through The Dark Sod—as Education 1/1/2004
487. On This Wondrous Sea 1/13/2003
488. The Birds Begun At Four O'Clock 1/13/2003
489. Papa Above! 1/13/2003
490. So Bashful When I Spied Her! 1/13/2003
491. I Could Die—to Know 1/1/2004
492. Many A Phrase Has The English Language 1/13/2003
493. Like Eyes That Looked On Wastes 1/13/2003
494. It's Like The Light, -- 5/15/2001
495. Of Bronze—and Blaze 1/1/2004
496. We Don'T Cry—tim And I 1/1/2004
497. She Sped As Petals Of A Rose 1/13/2003
498. So Set Its Sun In Thee 1/13/2003
499. The Body Grows Without 1/13/2003
500. No Rack Can Torture Me 1/13/2003
501. Of Course—i Prayed 1/1/2004
502. The Mountain Sat Upon The Plain 1/13/2003
503. One Dignity Delays For All 1/13/2003
504. I Tie My Hat—i Crease My Shawl 1/1/2004
505. The Color Of A Queen, Is This 1/13/2003
506. To Hear An Oriole Sing 1/13/2003
507. The Sunset Stopped On Cottages 1/13/2003
508. I Know Where Wells Grow—droughtless Wells 1/1/2004
509. Myself Was Formed—a Carpenter 1/1/2004
510. What Is— 1/1/2004
511. I Keep My Pledge 1/13/2003
512. Robbed By Death—but That Was Easy 1/1/2004
513. I Got So I Could Take His Name 1/13/2003
514. I Made Slow Riches But My Gain 1/13/2003
515. I Had The Glory—that Will Do 1/1/2004
516. When Diamonds Are A Legend 1/13/2003
517. They Dropped Like Flakes 5/15/2001
518. Precious To Me—she Still Shall Be 1/1/2004
519. 'Tis So Appalling&Mdash;It Exhilarates 1/13/2003
520. He Fought Like Those Who'Ve Nought To Lose 1/13/2003

Comments about Emily Dickinson

  • Theodora Onken (1/16/2005 10:33:00 PM)

    I have always loved Emily Dickinson. She was so quiet and introspective, but had such a gentle gift with words. She spent many an Amherst day writing about the things that touched her so much, and of course, the bee, and nature were amongst her favorite topics. Her gift of writing was discovered later, which is a true shame.

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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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