Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

761. Our Journey Had Advanced; 5/15/2001
762. Life—is What We Make Of It 1/1/2004
763. I Felt My Life With Both My Hands 1/13/2003
764. I Envy Seas, Whereon He Rides 1/13/2003
765. Within My Garden, Rides A Bird 1/13/2003
766. This Quiet Dust Was Gentlemen And Ladies 1/3/2003
767. In Lands I Never Saw—they Say 1/1/2004
768. Grief Is A Mouse 1/13/2003
769. To Offer Brave Assistance 1/13/2003
770. I'M The Little 1/1/2004
771. Going To Him! Happy Letter! Tell Him-- 5/14/2001
772. Upon Concluded Lives 1/13/2003
773. Twas Crisis—all The Length Had Passed 1/1/2004
774. Uncertain Lease—develops Lustre 1/1/2004
775. Nature Rarer Uses Yellow 5/15/2001
776. The Chariot 4/28/2011
777. He Fumbles At Your Spirit 5/14/2001
778. That Is Solemn We Have Ended 1/13/2003
779. The Admirations—and Contempts—of Time 1/1/2004
780. I Meant To Find Her When I Came 1/13/2003
781. I See Thee Better—in The Dark 1/1/2004
782. My River Runs To Thee 1/13/2003
783. Unto Me? I Do Not Know You— 1/1/2004
784. My Life Had Stood 1/3/2003
785. How The Old Mountains Drip With Sunset 1/13/2003
786. I Haven'T Told My Garden Yet 1/13/2003
787. The Loneliness One Dare Not Sound 1/13/2003
788. I Reckon—when I Count It All 1/1/2004
789. I Stepped From Plank To Plank 5/15/2001
790. To Fight Aloud, Is Very Brave 1/13/2003
791. I Tried To Think A Lonelier Thing 1/13/2003
792. How Many Flowers Fail In Wood 1/13/2003
793. Two Swimmers Wrestled On The Spar 1/13/2003
794. God Gave A Loaf To Every Bird, 12/31/2002
795. 'Twould Ease—a Butterfly 1/1/2004
796. They Say That 'Time Assuages, 5/15/2001
797. That First Day, When You Praised Me, Sweet 1/13/2003
798. Why Do They Shut Me Out of Heaven? 1/13/2003
799. 'Twas A Long Parting&Mdash;But The Time 1/13/2003
800. It Will Be Summer—eventually 1/1/2004

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

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—

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