Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) was one of America’s greatest poets, often called “The Belle of Amherst.” She lived most of her life in seclusion in Amherst, Massachusetts, and wrote nearly 1,800 poems, though only a few were published during her lifetime.
✨ Key Features of Her Poetry:
- Unconventional use of punctuation and capitalization.
- Short, compressed lines filled with deep meaning.
- Frequent themes of death, immortality, nature, and love.
- A unique, reflective, and often mysterious voice.
- Today, Dickinson is celebrated as a pioneer of modern American poetry, whose works continue to inspire readers worldwide.
Because I could not stop for Death
Because I could not stop for Death—
He kindly stopped for me—
The Carriage held but just Ourselves—
And Immortality.
We slowly drove—He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility—
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess—in the Ring—
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain—
We passed the Setting Sun—
Or rather—He passed us—
The Dews drew quivering and chill—
For only Gossamer, my Gown—
My Tippet—only Tulle—
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground—
The Roof was scarcely visible—
The Cornice—in the Ground—
Since then—’tis Centuries—and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity—
One Sister have I in our house
One Sister have I in our house -
And one a hedge away.
There’s only one recorded,
But both belong to me.
One came the way that I came -
And wore my past year’s gown -
The other as a bird her nest,
Builded our hearts among.
She did not sing as we did -
It was a different tune -
Herself to her a Music
As Bumble-bee of June.
Today is far from Childhood -
But up and down the hills
I held her hand the tighter -
Which shortened all the miles -
And still her hum
The years among,
Deceives the Butterfly;
Still in her Eye
The Violets lie
Mouldered this many May.
I spilt the dew -
But took the morn, -
I chose this single star
From out the wide night’s numbers -
Sue - forevermore!
'Tis Opposites — entice —
Deformed Men — ponder Grace —
Bright fires—the Blanketless —
The Lost — Day's face —
The Blind — esteem it be
Enough Estate — to see —
The Captive — strangles new —
For deeming — Beggars — play —
To lack — enamor Thee —
Tho' the Divinity —
Be only
Me —
'Twould ease — a Butterfly
'Twould ease — a Butterfly —
Elate — a Bee —
Thou'rt neither —
Neither — thy capacity —
But, Blossom, were I,
I would rather be
Thy moment
Than a Bee's Eternity —
Content of fading
Is enough for me —
Fade I unto Divinity —
And Dying — Lifetime —
Ample as the Eye —
Her least attention raise on me —
A Doubt if it be Us
A Doubt if it be Us
Assists the staggering Mind
In an extremer Anguish
Until it footing find -
An Unreality is lent,
A merciful Mirage
That makes the living possible
While it suspends the lives.
A House upon the Height
A House upon the Height —
That Wagon never reached —
No Dead, were ever carried down —
No Peddler's Cart — approached —
Whose Chimney never smoked —
Whose Windows — Night and Morn —
Caught Sunrise first — and Sunset — last —
Then — held an Empty Pane —
Whose fate — Conjecture knew —
No other neighbor — did —
And what it was — we never lisped —
Because He — never told —
A Clock stopped -
Not the Mantel's -
Geneva's farthest skill
Can't put the puppet bowing
That just now dangled still -
An awe came on the Trinket!
The Figures hunched -with pain -
Then quivered out of Decimals -
Into Degreeless noon -
It will not stir for Doctors -
This Pendulum of snow -
The Shopman importunes it -
While cool - concernless No
Nods from the Gilded pointers -
Nods from Seconds slim -
Decades of Arrogance between
The Dial life -
And Him.
A Great Hope Fell
A great Hope fell
You heard no noise
The Ruin was within
Oh cunning wreck that told no tale
And let no Witness in
The mind was built for mighty Freight
For dread occasion planned
How often foundering at Sea
Ostensibly, on Land
A not admitting of the wound
Until it grew so wide
That all my Life had entered it
And there were troughs beside
A closing of the simple lid
That opened to the sun
Until the tender Carpenter
Perpetual nail it down -
'Faithful To The End' Amended
'Faithful to the end' Amended
From the Heavenly Clause -
Constancy with a Proviso
Constancy abhors -
'Crowns of Life' are servile Prizes
To the stately Heart,
Given for the Giving, solely,
No Emolument.
'Faithful to the end' Amended
From the Heavenly clause -
Lucrative indeed the offer
But the Heart withdraws -
'I will give' the base Proviso -
Spare Your 'Crown of Life' -
Those it fits, too fair to wear it -
Try it on Yourself -
'Tis Sunrise — Little Maid — Hast Thou
'Tis Sunrise — Little Maid — Hast Thou
No Station in the Day?
'Twas not thy wont, to hinder so —
Retrieve thine industry —
'Tis Noon — My little Maid —
Alas — and art thou sleeping yet?
The Lily — waiting to be Wed —
The Bee — Hast thou forgot?
My little Maid — 'Tis Night — Alas
That Night should be to thee
Instead of Morning — Had'st thou broached
Thy little Plan to Die —
Dissuade thee, if I could not, Sweet,
I might have aided — thee —
A Coffin - is a small Domain
A Coffin — is a small Domain,
Yet able to contain
A Citizen of Paradise
In it diminished Plane.
A Grave — is a restricted Breadth —
Yet ampler than the Sun —
And all the Seas He populates
And Lands He looks upon
To Him who on its small Repose
Bestows a single Friend —
Circumference without Relief —
Or Estimate — or End —
Conclusion
Emily Dickinson’s poetry stands as one of the most remarkable contributions to American literature. Her unique style—marked by short lines, dashes, and unconventional expression—continues to inspire readers and scholars alike. Through her poems, Dickinson explored profound themes such as life, death, immortality, nature, love, and the human soul. Even though she lived a life of solitude, her words opened vast worlds of thought and feeling.
Today, Emily Dickinson remains a timeless voice in poetry, proving that her work is not just of historical value but a living source of inspiration. For anyone who wishes to understand the depth of human emotions, the mystery of existence, and the beauty of language, Emily Dickinson’s poetry offers an eternal guide. Her legacy reminds us that true art transcends time, continuing to speak to readers in every generation.
