Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

201. Where Bells No More Affright The Morn 1/13/2003
202. Ribbons Of The Year 1/13/2003
203. What Did They Do Since I Saw Them? 1/13/2003
204. This Merit Hath The Worst 1/13/2003
205. There Is A June When Corn Is Cut 1/13/2003
206. No Prisoner Be 1/13/2003
207. 'Tis True—they Shut Me In The Cold 1/1/2004
208. We Met As Sparks—diverging Flints 1/1/2004
209. This Bauble Was Preferred Of Bees 1/13/2003
210. Mute Thy Coronation 1/13/2003
211. They Put Us Far Apart 1/13/2003
212. She Staked Her Feathers—gained An Arc 1/1/2004
213. Nature—sometimes Sears A Sapling 1/1/2004
214. She's Happy, With A New Content 1/13/2003
215. This Dust, And Its Feature 1/13/2003
216. The Guest Is Gold And Crimson 1/13/2003
217. Who Giants Know, With Lesser Men 1/13/2003
218. No Crowd That Has Occurred 1/13/2003
219. Of Consciousness, Her Awful Mate 1/13/2003
220. Air has no Residence, no Neighbor 2/10/2016
221. I'Ve None To Tell Me To But Thee 1/13/2003
222. The Red—blaze—is The Morning 1/1/2004
223. The Show Is Not The Show, 5/15/2001
224. The White Heat 5/15/2001
225. The Thought Beneath So Slight A Film 5/15/2001
226. There Is An Arid Pleasure 1/13/2003
227. The Martyr Poets—did Not Tell 1/1/2004
228. Renunciation 1/3/2003
229. No Matter—now—sweet 1/1/2004
230. The Snow That Never Drifts 1/8/2015
231. Out Of Sight? What Of That? 1/13/2003
232. The Zeroes—taught Us—phosphorous 1/1/2004
233. We Miss Her, Not Because We See 1/13/2003
234. The Spirit Is The Conscious Ear 1/13/2003
235. Those Who Have Been In The Grave The Longest 1/13/2003
236. Jesus! Thy Crucifix 1/13/2003
237. The Hollows Round His Eager Eyes 1/13/2003
238. We See&Mdash;Comparatively 1/13/2003
239. I Should Have Been Too Glad, I See 1/13/2003
240. Shells From The Coast Mistaking 1/13/2003

Comments about Emily Dickinson

  • Gary Manning (3/24/2017 12:14:00 PM)

    This poem is reproduced incorrectly. The words in leafy wood do not appear in the one transcript of this poem extant. No autograph copy of this poem is known, according to Thomas H. Johnson.

    22 person liked.
    40 person did not like.
  • Sylvaonyema Uba Sylvaonyema Uba (1/26/2017 4:00:00 PM)

    Images of beauty and life depicted in this poem. Sylva-Onyema Uba.

  • Geoff Dunstone (7/14/2016 4:38:00 AM)

    a brilliant and enigmatic poet

  • Soul Watcher Soul Watcher (6/22/2016 10:49:00 AM)

    This poet will never come back again

  • Brendan O'Brien (3/12/2016 2:52:00 AM)

    A word is dead when it is said some say
    I say it only starts to live that dayHow wonderfully accurate, and how beautifully stated.

  • Muteesasira Juma Muteesasira Juma (12/26/2015 12:31:00 AM)

    she was really wonderful

  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (12/16/2015 5:12:00 AM)

    ''We never know how high we are
    Till we are asked to rise''
    Emily Dickinson (1176)

    beautiful words.. and a great truth..

  • Nirmal Upadhyaya (11/7/2015 11:47:00 AM)

    Emily is one of best poets I adore.

  • Laurie Flynn (8/13/2015 4:41:00 PM)

    To me, Emily Dickinson is one of the most insightful poets, in fact writers, that has even blessed the English language. Her remarkable understanding of emotions and feelings make her pieces timeless and, furthermore, a crutch for those in need of support when they can't quite work out their own. Hopeful yet realistic, beautiful yet dark and even witty, Dickinson is truly a remarkable character and it's reflected in her poetry.

  • Vidura Prabhath Vidura Prabhath (6/23/2015 8:33:00 AM)

    Her poems are inspirational.They appeal to the heart

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

I Send Two Sunsets


I send Two Sunsets—
Day and I—in competition ran—
I finished Two—and several Stars—
While He—was making One—

His own was ampler—but as I
Was saying to a friend—
Mine—is the more convenient
To Carry in the Hand—

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