Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

1. It sounded as if the Streets were running 4/21/2015
2. The Spry Arms Of The Wind 5/11/2015
3. The Going From A World We Know 5/12/2015
4. As from the earth the light Balloon 5/29/2015
5. There is another Loneliness 6/10/2015
6. It stole along so stealthy 6/25/2015
7. Longing is like the Seed 7/24/2015
8. STEP lightly on this narrow spot 10/20/2015
9. Witchcraft Has Not A Pedigree 11/13/2015
10. Air has no Residence, no Neighbor -new- 2/10/2016
11. These Fevered Days - to take them to the Forest -new- 2/11/2016
12. Judgment is justest 12/2/2015
13. Rearrange a 'Wife's' affection! 9/3/2015
14. Had we our senses 8/7/2015
15. There is no Silence in the Earth 5/29/2015
16. And with what body do they come 5/21/2015
17. High From The Earth I Heard A Bird 5/21/2015
18. I Bet With Every Wind That Blew 5/12/2015
19. A little Madness in the Spring 5/5/2015
20. Whole Gulfs - of Red, and Fleets 4/17/2015
21. The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants 6/18/2015
22. Image of Light, Adieu 7/21/2015
23. Growth of Man - like Growth of Nature 11/20/2015
24. March is the Month of Expectation 12/4/2015
25. A Sloop of Amber slips away 1/9/2016
26. Exhilaration is the Breeze -new- 1/29/2016
27. Not with a club, the Heart is broken 6/4/2015
28. The inundation of the Spring 5/5/2015
29. So much of Heaven has gone from Earth 5/29/2015
30. Whose Pink career may have a close 7/4/2015
31. The Face we choose to miss 9/11/2015
32. The grave my little cottage is -new- 2/2/2016
33. Oh Shadow on the Grass -new- 2/8/2016
34. His voice decrepit was with Joy 9/2/2015
35. Escape is such a thankful Word 5/8/2015
36. Silence is all we dread 4/24/2015
37. The Bat Is Dun With Wrinkled Wings 1/20/2015
38. Spring comes on the World 5/5/2015
39. Luck is not chance 6/10/2015
40. When Memory is full 6/11/2015
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!


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—

[Hata Bildir]