Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

1081. You'Ll Know It—as You Know 'Tis Noon 1/1/2004
1082. As By The Dead We Love To Sit 1/13/2003
1083. T Was Just This Time Last Year I Died. 5/14/2001
1084. First Robin 5/14/2001
1085. As Everywhere Of Silver 1/13/2003
1086. At Least—to Pray—is Left—is Left 1/1/2004
1087. All Forgot For Recollecting 1/13/2003
1088. An Awful Tempest Mashed The Air 1/13/2003
1089. Before I Got My Eye Put Out 1/13/2003
1090. The Brain—is Wider Than The Sky 1/1/2004
1091. A Single Screw Of Flesh 1/13/2003
1092. How Happy Is The Little Stone 1/13/2003
1093. Before You Thought Of Spring, 5/14/2001
1094. There's A Certain Slant Of Light (258) 1/20/2003
1095. Death Is A Dialogue Between 1/13/2003
1096. Sunset At Night—is Natural 1/1/2004
1097. Bless God, He Went As Soldiers 1/13/2003
1098. For Each Ecstatic Instant 5/14/2001
1099. As If Some Little Arctic Flower 1/13/2003
1100. Departed To The Judgment, 5/14/2001
1101. Beclouded 1/3/2003
1102. An Hour Is A Sea 1/13/2003
1103. Alter! When The Hills Do 1/13/2003
1104. Absence Disembodies—so Does Death 1/1/2004
1105. Beauty&Mdash;Be Not Caused&Mdash;It Is 1/13/2003
1106. An Everywhere Of Silver 5/14/2001
1107. I Like A Look Of Agony 1/13/2003
1108. All I May, If Small 1/13/2003
1109. Fame Is A Bee 1/13/2003
1110. Faith 1/1/2004
1111. Apology For Her 1/13/2003
1112. Abraham To Kill Him 1/3/2003
1113. We Grow Accustomed To The Dark 1/3/2003
1114. Come Slowly 1/3/2003
1115. You Taught Me Waiting With Myself 1/13/2003
1116. All Overgrown By Cunning Moss 1/13/2003
1117. A Solemn Thing&Mdash;It Was&Mdash;I Said 1/13/2003
1118. Autumn&Mdash;Overlooked My Knitting 1/13/2003
1119. Ah, Teneriffe! 1/13/2003
1120. Faith—is The Pierless Bridge 1/1/2004
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

283

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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