Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

561. To Learn The Transport By The Pain 1/13/2003
562. Partake As Doth The Bee 1/13/2003
563. Heaven Has Different Signs—to Me 1/1/2004
564. Her Sweet Weight On My Heart A Night 1/13/2003
565. The Wind Begun To Knead The Grass 1/13/2003
566. Her Smile Was Shaped Like Other Smiles 1/13/2003
567. Mama Never Forgets Her Birds 1/13/2003
568. The Flower Must Not Blame The Bee 1/13/2003
569. We Do Not Play On Graves 1/13/2003
570. The Poets Light But Lamps 1/13/2003
571. Where Thou Art—that—is Home 1/1/2004
572. If I Should Cease To Bring A Rose 1/13/2003
573. The Morns Are Meeker Than They Were 1/13/2003
574. I Had No Cause To Be Awake 1/13/2003
575. The Wind Begun To Rock The Grass 5/15/2001
576. When I Count The Seeds 1/13/2003
577. The Robin Is The One 1/13/2003
578. Light Is Sufficient To Itself 1/13/2003
579. She Hideth Her The Last 1/13/2003
580. Perhaps You Think Me Stooping 1/13/2003
581. The Trees Like Tassels—hit—and Swung 1/1/2004
582. Emancipation 12/3/2014
583. The Love A Life Can Show Below 1/13/2003
584. The Nearest Dream Recedes, Unrealized. 12/31/2002
585. My Faith Is Larger Than The Hills 1/13/2003
586. Pain&Mdash;Expands The Time 1/13/2003
587. The Difference Between Despair 1/13/2003
588. The Dying Need But Little, Dear,-- 5/15/2001
589. Her&Mdash;"Last Poems" 1/13/2003
590. Promise This—when You Be Dying 1/1/2004
591. I Am Ashamed—i Hide 1/1/2004
592. On A Columnar Self 1/13/2003
593. The Rainbow Never Tells Me 1/13/2003
594. He Touched Me, So I Live To Know 1/13/2003
595. Papa Above! 1/13/2003
596. He Was Weak, And I Was Strong—then 1/1/2004
597. I Shall Keep Singing! 1/13/2003
598. The Sun Kept Setting—setting—still 1/1/2004
599. I Live With Him—i See His Face 1/1/2004
600. The Winters Are So Short 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

A Mien To Move A Queen

283

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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