Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

241. To Know Just How He Suffered—Would Be Dear 1/13/2003
242. How Well I Knew Her Not 1/13/2003
243. They Called Me To The Window, For 1/13/2003
244. Perhaps I Asked Too Large 1/3/2003
245. His Heart Was Darker Than The Starless Night 2/25/2015
246. She Lay As If At Play 1/13/2003
247. They Won'T Frown Always—some Sweet Day 1/1/2004
248. The World&Mdash;Stands&Mdash;Solemner&Mdash;To Me 1/13/2003
249. Like Flowers, That Heard The News Of Dews 1/13/2003
250. He Parts Himself—like Leaves 1/1/2004
251. My Wheel Is In The Dark 1/13/2003
252. Just Lost, When I Was Saved! 1/13/2003
253. They Leave Us With The Infinite 1/13/2003
254. Savior! I'Ve No One Else To Tell 1/13/2003
255. Of Nearness To Her Sundered Things 1/13/2003
256. Most She Touched Me By Her Muteness 1/13/2003
257. He Gave Away His Life 1/13/2003
258. My Soul—accused Me—and I Quailed 1/1/2004
259. The One Who Could Repeat The Summer Day 1/13/2003
260. Not 1/1/2004
261. So From The Mould 1/13/2003
262. More Life—went Out—when He Went 1/1/2004
263. The Butterfly Upon The Sky 12/13/2014
264. Prayer Is The Little Implement 1/13/2003
265. Ideals Are The Fairly Oil 1/13/2003
266. The Night Was Wide, And Furnished Scant 1/13/2003
267. I Want—it Pleaded—all Its Life— 1/1/2004
268. The Road Was Lit With Moon And Star 1/16/2015
269. My Reward For Being, Was This 1/13/2003
270. Gratitude—is Not The Mention 1/1/2004
271. The Juggler's Hat Her Country Is 1/13/2003
272. Least Bee That Brew 1/13/2003
273. The Black Berry—wears A Thorn In His Side 1/1/2004
274. They Have A Little Odor—that To Me 1/1/2004
275. Me, Change! Me, Alter! 1/13/2003
276. The Province Of The Saved 1/13/2003
277. When The Astronomer Stops Seeking 1/13/2003
278. No Crowd That Has Occurred 1/13/2003
279. Nature—sometimes Sears A Sapling 1/1/2004
280. We Talked As Girls Do 1/13/2003

Comments about Emily Dickinson

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  • Greg Bell Greg Bell (4/16/2017 4:30:00 PM)

    What a remarkable talent, decades - no, a century - ahead of her times. Pithy, master of 'telling it slant, ' many have tried to emulate her; few, if any, have succeeded.

  • Gary Manning (3/24/2017 12:16:00 PM)

    This poem is reproduced incorrectly. The words in leafy wood do not appear in the original. This poem exists in transcript only, the original manuscript having been lost, according to Thomas H. Johnson.

  • 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.

  • 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..

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 Died For Beauty

I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.

He questioned softly why I failed?
"For beauty," I replied.
"And I for truth - the two are one;
We brethren are," he said.

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