Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

961. 'Tis So Much Joy! 1/13/2003
962. Did You Ever Stand In A Cavern's Mouth 1/13/2003
963. Flowers—well—if Anybody 1/1/2004
964. As Children Bid The Guest "Good Night" 1/13/2003
965. Forever At His Side To Walk 1/13/2003
966. At Last, To Be Identified! 1/13/2003
967. By My Window Have I For Scenery 1/13/2003
968. Did The Harebell Loose Her Girdle 1/13/2003
969. It Was Given To Me By The Gods 1/13/2003
970. Summer For Thee, Grant I May Be 1/13/2003
971. Before He Comes We Weigh The Time! 1/13/2003
972. Bereaved Of All, I Went Abroad 1/13/2003
973. Empty My Heart, Of Thee 1/13/2003
974. Bloom Upon The Mountain—stated 1/1/2004
975. Bound&Mdash;A Trouble 1/13/2003
976. Between My Country—and The Others 1/1/2004
977. As The Starved Maelstrom Laps The Navies 1/13/2003
978. Best Things Dwell Out Of Sight 1/13/2003
979. It Is An Honorable Thought, 5/15/2001
980. Color—caste—denomination 1/1/2004
981. Drama's Vitallest Expression Is The Common Day 1/13/2003
982. It Feels A Shame To Be Alive 1/13/2003
983. As Frost Is Best Conceived 1/13/2003
984. Banish Air From Air&Mdash; 1/13/2003
985. Doom Is The House Without The Door 1/13/2003
986. It Was Not Death, For I Stood Up, 5/15/2001
987. Superfluous Were The Sun 1/13/2003
988. Could I But Ride Indefinite 1/13/2003
989. Baffled For Just A Day Or Two 1/13/2003
990. It Can'T Be "Summer"! 1/13/2003
991. Do People Moulder Equally 1/13/2003
992. Fitter To See Him, I May Be 1/13/2003
993. Train 1/3/2003
994. As Watchers Hang Upon The East 1/13/2003
995. Except To Heaven, She Is Nought 1/13/2003
996. All Circumstances Are The Frame 1/13/2003
997. Delayed Till She Had Ceased To Know 1/13/2003
998. You'Ll Know Her—by Her Foot 1/1/2004
999. If You Were Coming In The Fall, 5/15/2001
1000. There Is No Frigate Like A Book 5/15/2001

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

Ah, Teneriffe!


Ah, Teneriffe!
Retreating Mountain!
Purples of Ages—pause for you—
Sunset—reviews her Sapphire Regiment—
Day—drops you her Red Adieu!

Still—Clad in your Mail of ices—

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