Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

761. My Garden—like The Beach 1/1/2004
762. Snow Beneath Whose Chilly Softness 1/13/2003
763. To Make One's Toilette&Mdash;After Death 1/13/2003
764. Life—is What We Make Of It 1/1/2004
765. Within My Garden, Rides A Bird 1/13/2003
766. I'M Ceded—i'Ve Stopped Being Theirs 1/1/2004
767. To Offer Brave Assistance 1/13/2003
768. I'M The Little 1/1/2004
769. Twice Had Summer Her Fair Verdure 1/13/2003
770. Going To Him! Happy Letter! Tell Him-- 5/14/2001
771. Upon Concluded Lives 1/13/2003
772. There Is A Pain—so Utter 1/1/2004
773. Twas Crisis—all The Length Had Passed 1/1/2004
774. Under The Light, Yet Under 1/13/2003
775. Nature Rarer Uses Yellow 5/15/2001
776. If I Should Die 1/13/2003
777. Too Little Way The House Must Lie 1/13/2003
778. He Fumbles At Your Spirit 5/14/2001
779. That Is Solemn We Have Ended 1/13/2003
780. We Play At Paste, 12/31/2002
781. The Admirations—and Contempts—of Time 1/1/2004
782. Impossibility, Like Wine 1/13/2003
783. Unfulfilled To Observation 1/13/2003
784. I Meant To Find Her When I Came 1/13/2003
785. We Can But Follow To The Sun 1/13/2003
786. Unto Me? I Do Not Know You— 1/1/2004
787. My Life Had Stood 1/3/2003
788. I Haven'T Told My Garden Yet 1/13/2003
789. Undue Significance A Starving Man Attaches 1/13/2003
790. To Fight Aloud, Is Very Brave 1/13/2003
791. I Tried To Think A Lonelier Thing 1/13/2003
792. The Last Night That She Lived 1/13/2003
793. I Had No Time To Hate, Because 5/15/2001
794. God Gave A Loaf To Every Bird, 12/31/2002
795. Two Swimmers Wrestled On The Spar 1/13/2003
796. 'Twould Ease—a Butterfly 1/1/2004
797. They Say That 'Time Assuages, 5/15/2001
798. That First Day, When You Praised Me, Sweet 1/13/2003
799. Why Do They Shut Me Out of Heaven? 1/13/2003
800. 'Twas A Long Parting&Mdash;But The Time 1/13/2003

Comments about Emily Dickinson

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

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

    22 person liked.
    22 person did not like.
  • 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

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—

[Report Error]