Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

681. Had I Presumed To Hope 1/13/2003
682. How Many Times These Low Feet Staggered 1/13/2003
683. I Have A Bird In Spring 1/13/2003
684. Her Final Summer Was It, 5/14/2001
685. We Learned The Whole Of Love 1/13/2003
686. How Sick—to Wait—in Any Place—but Thine 1/1/2004
687. The Grass So Little Has To Do 1/3/2003
688. I Had No Cause To Be Awake 1/13/2003
689. Love—is Anterior To Life 1/1/2004
690. The Spider Holds A Silver Ball 1/3/2003
691. Without This—there Is Nought 1/1/2004
692. The Mystery Of Pain 1/3/2003
693. Water Makes Many Beds 11/24/2014
694. Pain Has An Element Of Blank; 5/15/2001
695. The First Day's Night Had Come 1/13/2003
696. To Fill A Gap 1/13/2003
697. The Rainbow Never Tells Me 1/13/2003
698. Her Smile Was Shaped Like Other Smiles 1/13/2003
699. Some Rainbow—coming From The Fair! 1/1/2004
700. There Came A Wind Like A Bugle 1/3/2003
701. Rest At Night 1/13/2003
702. Her Grace Is All She Has&Mdash; 1/13/2003
703. I'M "Wife"&Mdash;I'Ve Finished That 1/13/2003
704. Heaven Is So Far Of The Mind 1/13/2003
705. The Soul Has Bandaged Moments 1/13/2003
706. The Definition Of Beauty Is 1/13/2003
707. Safe In Their Alabaster Chambers, 5/15/2001
708. Her Breast Is Fit For Pearls 1/13/2003
709. The Wind Tapped Like A Tired Man, 5/15/2001
710. The Moon Was But A Chin Of Gold 1/13/2003
711. Tie The Strings To My Life, My Lord, 5/15/2001
712. God Made A Little Gentian 1/13/2003
713. If Your Nerve, Deny You 1/13/2003
714. I See Thee Better—in The Dark 1/1/2004
715. You Cannot Put A Fire Out 1/13/2003
716. Unto Like Story—trouble Has Enticed Me 1/1/2004
717. I Stole Them From A Bee 1/13/2003
718. Grief Is A Mouse 1/13/2003
719. A Little Snow Was Here And There 1/8/2015
720. I Am Alive - I Guess 1/1/2004

Comments about Emily Dickinson

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

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

    19 person liked.
    21 person did not like.
  • 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 Died For Beauty

I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.

He questioned softly why I failed?
"For beauty," I replied.
"And I for truth - the two are one;
We brethren are," he said.

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