Poetry

A Rose By  Emily Dickinson A sepal, petal, and a thorn     Upon a common summer's morn, A flash of dew, a bee or two, A breeze A caper in the tre…

Satisfied By  Emily Dickinson One blessing had I, than the rest     So larger to my eyes That I stopped gauging, satisfied,     For this enchanted si…

Saturday Afternoon By  Emily Dickinson From all the jails the boys and girls     Ecstatically leap, —  Beloved, only afternoon     That prison doesn&…

April By  Emily Dickinson An altered look about the hills; A Tyrian light the village fills; A wider sunrise in the dawn; A deeper twilight on the la…

Summer Shower By  Emily Dickinson A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A f…

Indian Summer By  Emily Dickinson These are the days when birds come back, A very few, a bird or two, To take a backward look. These are the days whe…

Mine By  Emily Dickinson Mine by the right of the white election! Mine by the royal seal! Mine by the sign in the scarlet prison Bars cannot conceal!…

Farewell By  Emily Dickinson Tie the strings to my life, my Lord,     Then I am ready to go! Just a look at the horses —      Rapid! That will do! Pu…

With a Flower By  Emily Dickinson I hide myself within my flower, That wearing on your breast, You, unsuspecting, wear me too —  And angels know the …

Love By  Emily Dickinson Love is anterior to life,     Posterior to death, Initial of creation, and     The exponent of breath. Poem Analysis: Emily …

Love's Humility By  Emily Dickinson My worthiness is all my doubt,     His merit all my fear, Contrasting which, my qualities     Do lowlier appe…

Death and Life By  Emily Dickinson Apparently with no surprise To any happy flower, The frost beheads it at its play In accidental power. The blond a…

Parting By  Emily Dickinson My life closed twice before its close;     It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil     A third event to me, So huge, …

Life's Trades By  Emily Dickinson It's such a little thing to weep,     So short a thing to sigh; And yet by trades the size of these     We …

A Service of Song By  Emily Dickinson Some keep the Sabbath going to church; I keep it staying at home, With a bobolink for a chorister, And an orcha…

November By  Emily Dickinson Besides the autumn poets sing, A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the haze. A few incisi…