Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

641. Light Is Sufficient To Itself 1/13/2003
642. I Think The Longest Hour Of All 1/13/2003
643. While It Is Alive 1/13/2003
644. The Love A Life Can Show Below 1/13/2003
645. I Play At Riches—to Appease 1/1/2004
646. Tie The Strings To My Life, My Lord, 5/15/2001
647. My Worthiness Is All My Doubt 1/13/2003
648. Remorse - Is Memory - Awake - 1/3/2003
649. I Years Had Been From Home, 5/15/2001
650. To Die 1/3/2003
651. Like Eyes That Looked On Wastes 1/13/2003
652. How Many Times These Low Feet Staggered 1/13/2003
653. If I May Have It, When It's Dead 1/13/2003
654. God Permit Industrious Angels 5/14/2001
655. Her Final Summer Was It, 5/14/2001
656. We Learned The Whole Of Love 1/13/2003
657. The Brain, Within Its Groove 1/13/2003
658. My Portion Is Defeat—today 1/1/2004
659. I Stole Them From A Bee 1/13/2003
660. I Prayed, At First, A Little Girl 1/13/2003
661. The Grass So Little Has To Do 1/3/2003
662. The Name—of It—is 'Autumn' 1/13/2003
663. They Dropped Like Flakes 5/15/2001
664. Woodpecker, The 12/31/2002
665. The Bible Is An Antique Volume 1/13/2003
666. The Way I Read A Letter's—this 1/1/2004
667. I Never Felt At Home—below 1/1/2004
668. Without This—there Is Nought 1/1/2004
669. Water Makes Many Beds 11/24/2014
670. To Fill A Gap 1/13/2003
671. I Am Alive - I Guess 1/1/2004
672. Make Me A Picture Of The Sun 1/13/2003
673. Some Rainbow—coming From The Fair! 1/1/2004
674. Love—is That Later Thing Than Death 1/13/2003
675. Rest At Night 1/13/2003
676. I Asked No Other Thing 1/13/2003
677. I Know A Place Where Summer Strives 5/15/2001
678. The Color Of A Queen, Is This 1/13/2003
679. I Can'T Tell You—but You Feel It 1/1/2004
680. The Definition Of Beauty Is 1/13/2003

Comments about Emily Dickinson

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

    Your poem reminded me of part of your surname

    15 person liked.
    29 person did not like.
  • 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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