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. September's Baccalaureate 4/21/2015
3. A Pang is more conspicuous in Spring 5/5/2015
4. Spring comes on the World 5/5/2015
5. There comes a warning like a spy 5/11/2015
6. He Preached Upon 'Breadth' Till It Argued Him Narrow — 5/11/2015
7. The Duties Of The Wind Are Few 5/11/2015
8. A Sickness Of This World It Most Occasions 5/12/2015
9. All Men For Honor Hardest Work 5/13/2015
10. The Work Of Her That Went 5/13/2015
11. As from the earth the light Balloon 5/29/2015
12. Mine enemy is growing old 5/29/2015
13. The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants 6/18/2015
14. It stole along so stealthy 6/25/2015
15. Whose Pink career may have a close 7/4/2015
16. Had we our senses 8/7/2015
17. His voice decrepit was with Joy 9/2/2015
18. Of Yellow was the outer Sky 9/7/2015
19. Growth of Man - like Growth of Nature -new- 11/20/2015
20. If all the griefs I am to have -new- 11/26/2015
21. I am afraid to own a Body -new- 11/26/2015
22. STEP lightly on this narrow spot 10/20/2015
23. My Cocoon Tightens, Colors Tease 10/20/2015
24. Longing is like the Seed 7/24/2015
25. Luck is not chance 6/10/2015
26. When Memory is full 6/11/2015
27. So much of Heaven has gone from Earth 5/29/2015
28. The Earth Has Many Keys 5/29/2015
29. Lives He In Any Other World 5/12/2015
30. High From The Earth I Heard A Bird 5/21/2015
31. The Notice that is called the Spring 5/5/2015
32. A Wind That Rose 5/11/2015
33. How fits his Umber Coat 7/6/2015
34. Shall I take thee, the Poet said 7/29/2015
35. Death is like the insect 7/22/2015
36. Drowning is not so pitiful 8/31/2015
37. The Face we choose to miss 9/11/2015
38. He ate and drank the precious Words 9/4/2015
39. Witchcraft Has Not A Pedigree -new- 11/13/2015
40. The Spry Arms Of The Wind 5/11/2015
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]