Emily Dickinson

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

Emily Dickinson Poems

161. Bereaved Of All, I Went Abroad 1/13/2003
162. Bereavement In Their Death To Feel 1/13/2003
163. Besides The Autumn Poets Sing 1/13/2003
164. Besides This May 1/13/2003
165. Best Gains—must Have The Losses' Test 1/1/2004
166. Best Things Dwell Out Of Sight 1/13/2003
167. Best Witchcraft is Geometry 8/4/2016
168. Better—than Music! For I—who Heard It 1/1/2004
169. Between My Country—and The Others 1/1/2004
170. Bird 1/3/2003
171. Blazing In Gold And Quenching In Purple 1/13/2003
172. Bless God, He Went As Soldiers 1/13/2003
173. Bloom Upon The Mountain—stated 1/1/2004
174. Bound&Mdash;A Trouble 1/13/2003
175. Bring Me The Sunset In A Cup 1/13/2003
176. But Little Carmine Hath Her Face 1/13/2003
177. By A Flower—by A Letter 1/1/2004
178. By Chivalries As Tiny 1/13/2003
179. By homely gift and hindered Words 4/15/2016
180. By My Window Have I For Scenery 1/13/2003
181. By Such And Such An Offering 1/13/2003
182. By The Sea 1/3/2003
183. Chartless 1/3/2003
184. Civilization&Mdash;Spurns&Mdash;The Leopard! 1/13/2003
185. Cocoon Above! Cocoon Below! 1/13/2003
186. Color—caste—denomination 1/1/2004
187. Come Slowly 1/3/2003
188. Conjecturing A Climate 1/13/2003
189. Conscious Am I In My Chamber 1/13/2003
190. Could Hope Inspect Her Basis 12/6/2014
191. Could I But Ride Indefinite 1/13/2003
192. Could I—then—shut The Door 1/1/2004
193. Could Live—did Live 1/1/2004
194. Could mortal lip divine 3/30/2016
195. Could—i Do More—for Thee 1/1/2004
196. Crisis Is A Hair 1/13/2003
197. Crumbling Is Not An Instant's Act 1/13/2003
198. Dare You See A Soul At The White Heat? 1/13/2003
199. Dear March - Come in 12/4/2015
200. Death Is A Dialogue Between 1/13/2003
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

308

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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