Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

561. So Has A Daisy Vanished 1/13/2003
562. Her Sweet Weight On My Heart A Night 1/13/2003
563. The Wind Begun To Knead The Grass 1/13/2003
564. Love—thou Art High 1/1/2004
565. The Flower Must Not Blame The Bee 1/13/2003
566. We Do Not Play On Graves 1/13/2003
567. With A Flower 1/2/2015
568. If I Should Cease To Bring A Rose 1/13/2003
569. The Morns Are Meeker Than They Were 1/13/2003
570. The Wind Begun To Rock The Grass 5/15/2001
571. On Such A Night, Or Such A Night 1/13/2003
572. When I Count The Seeds 1/13/2003
573. She Hideth Her The Last 1/13/2003
574. The Trees Like Tassels—hit—and Swung 1/1/2004
575. The Nearest Dream Recedes, Unrealized. 12/31/2002
576. The Love A Life Can Show Below 1/13/2003
577. My Faith Is Larger Than The Hills 1/13/2003
578. The Judge Is Like The Owl 1/13/2003
579. The Difference Between Despair 1/13/2003
580. Her&Mdash;"Last Poems" 1/13/2003
581. Promise This—when You Be Dying 1/1/2004
582. He Touched Me, So I Live To Know 1/13/2003
583. Her— 1/1/2004
584. He Was Weak, And I Was Strong—then 1/1/2004
585. The Sun Kept Setting—setting—still 1/1/2004
586. I Live With Him—i See His Face 1/1/2004
587. The Winters Are So Short 1/13/2003
588. The Sun And Moon Must Make Their Haste 1/13/2003
589. Of Bronze—and Blaze 1/1/2004
590. The Child's Faith Is New 1/13/2003
591. Whose Are The Little Beds, I Asked 1/13/2003
592. I Ment To Find Her When I Came; 5/15/2001
593. She Slept Beneath A Tree 1/13/2003
594. The Mountain Sat Upon The Plain 1/13/2003
595. I Think Just How My Shape Will Rise 1/13/2003
596. How Noteless Men, And Pleiads, Stand 1/13/2003
597. Poor Little Heart! 1/13/2003
598. My Portion Is Defeat—today 1/1/2004
599. I Breathed Enough To Learn The Trick, 5/14/2001
600. I Prayed, At First, A Little Girl 1/13/2003

Comments about Emily Dickinson

  • Rosa Jamali (6/1/2008 2:30:00 PM)

    Philosophy and thoughts coming through poetry, so precious, the way she treats the words with a gentle decent vioce..

    19 person liked.
    22 person did not like.
  • okeydokey #3 (1/14/2008 3:23:00 AM)

    ...she is...my all time favorite...there was nobody...ever...that was better suited to write poetry...she is freaking amazing...

  • Kristyn Sommers (10/13/2007 3:06:00 PM)

    Woah she looks like a dude!

  • Dana Tyrrell (6/11/2006 8:02:00 PM)

    a truly amazing poet!

  • Vikram Aarella - The Poem Shooter (6/1/2006 2:46:00 PM)

    It's really amazing the number of poems she has written.

  • Uriah Hamilton (7/12/2005 9:01:00 AM)

    Quietly in her room,
    Emily Dickinson
    created a universe of poetry!

  • Pickled Onion (1/29/2005 6:34:00 AM)

    Your poem reminded me of part of your surname

  • 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.

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


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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