Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

321. My Wheel Is In The Dark 1/13/2003
322. No Notice Gave She, But A Change 1/13/2003
323. Just Lost, When I Was Saved! 1/13/2003
324. So From The Mould 1/13/2003
325. Not 1/1/2004
326. The One Who Could Repeat The Summer Day 1/13/2003
327. He Gave Away His Life 1/13/2003
328. Patience—has A Quiet Outer 1/1/2004
329. My Soul—accused Me—and I Quailed 1/1/2004
330. More Life—went Out—when He Went 1/1/2004
331. Most She Touched Me By Her Muteness 1/13/2003
332. Prayer Is The Little Implement 1/13/2003
333. So The Eyes Accost—and Sunder 1/1/2004
334. My Reward For Being, Was This 1/13/2003
335. Purple—is Fashionable Twice 1/1/2004
336. The Birds Reported From The South 1/13/2003
337. The Province Of The Saved 1/13/2003
338. When The Astronomer Stops Seeking 1/13/2003
339. Through Lane It Lay—through Bramble 1/1/2004
340. The Black Berry—wears A Thorn In His Side 1/1/2004
341. Least Bee That Brew 1/13/2003
342. Me, Change! Me, Alter! 1/13/2003
343. We Play At Paste, 12/31/2002
344. Of Nearness To Her Sundered Things 1/13/2003
345. We Talked As Girls Do 1/13/2003
346. It's Easy To Invent A Life 1/13/2003
347. When One Has Given Up One's Life 1/13/2003
348. The World—stands—solemner—to Me 1/1/2004
349. I Could Not Drink It, Sweet 1/13/2003
350. Many Cross The Rhine 1/13/2003
351. There Is A Languor Of The Life 1/13/2003
352. One Blessing Had I Than The Rest 1/13/2003
353. Who Occupies This House? 1/13/2003
354. No Romance Sold Unto 1/13/2003
355. The Veins Of Other Flowers 1/13/2003
356. So Proud She Was To Die 5/15/2001
357. The Martyr Poets—did Not Tell 1/1/2004
358. The Day Undressed&Mdash;Herself 1/13/2003
359. Out Of Sight? What Of That? 1/13/2003
360. The Outer—from The Inner 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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