Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

1161. Alone, I Cannot Be 1/13/2003
1162. To Make A Prairie (1755) 1/20/2003
1163. A Prison Gets To Be A Friend 1/13/2003
1164. A Murmur In The Trees&Mdash;To Note 1/13/2003
1165. A Shade Upon The Mind There Passes 1/13/2003
1166. A Route Of Evanescence 1/3/2003
1167. A Lady Red&Mdash;Amid The Hill 1/13/2003
1168. A Long, Long Sleep, A Famous Sleep 5/14/2001
1169. I Heard A Fly Buzz When I Died; 5/15/2001
1170. After A Hundred Years 5/14/2001
1171. The Soul Selects Her Own Society 1/3/2003
1172. A Something In A Summer's Day 1/13/2003
1173. A Little East Of Jordan 1/13/2003
1174. A Feather From The Whippoorwill 1/13/2003
1175. A Poor&Mdash;Torn Heart&Mdash;A Tattered Heart 1/13/2003
1176. A Shady Friend For Torrid Days 5/14/2001
1177. A Loss Of Something Ever Felt I 1/13/2003
1178. As Imperceptibly As Grief 1/13/2003
1179. A House Upon The Height 1/13/2003
1180. I Never Saw A Moor 1/3/2003
1181. Afraid! Of Whom Am I Afraid? 1/13/2003
1182. Tell All The Truth 1/3/2003
1183. A Sepal, Petal, And A Thorn 1/13/2003
1184. There Is Another Sky 1/13/2003
1185. Bee! I'M Expecting You! 1/13/2003
1186. A Moth The Hue Of This 1/13/2003
1187. A Little Road Not Made Man 5/14/2001
1188. Apparently With No Surprise 1/3/2003
1189. Wild Nights! Wild Nights! 12/31/2002
1190. Ah, Moon—and Star! 1/1/2004
1191. A Happy Lip&Mdash;Breaks Sudden 1/13/2003
1192. A Little Bread&Mdash;A Crust&Mdash;A Crumb 1/13/2003
1193. A Fuzzy Fellow, Without Feet 1/13/2003
1194. After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes 5/14/2001
1195. A Doubt If It Be Us 1/13/2003
1196. A Darting Fear&Mdash;A Pomp&Mdash;A Tear 1/13/2003
1197. Ample Make This Bed. 5/14/2001
1198. Death Leaves Us Homesick, Who Behind 1/13/2003
1199. A Day! Help! Help! Another Day! 1/13/2003
1200. A Door Just Opened On A Street 5/14/2001
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!

666

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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