Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson is a fantastic poet in my opinion.
A Wonderful Poet
Emily Dickinson would be 139 years old if she were alive today.
Beautiful Writer
Emily Dickinson is a perfect poet
Emily Dickinson Biography
Emily Dickinson was born December 10, 1830 in Amherst, Massachusetts. She lived there for all of her life. Emily left school to avoid people. She did that on her homestead in Amherst. While she was there Emily wrote poetry and letters. Sadly she died May 15, 1886 before her books got published. she is considered on of America's towering figures in poetry.
Five Interesting Facts About Emily Dickinson
- Emily Dickinson was born and died in the same place.
- She wrote her poems on the second floor of her house.
- Emily Dickinson was a middle child.
- Emily Dickinson never married.
- Emily Dickinson wrote around 1,800 pieces of literature.
A Clock Stopped By Emily Dickinson
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 —
This Shopman importunes it —
While cool — concernless No —
Nods from the Gilded pointers —
Nods from the Seconds slim —
Decades of Arrogance between
The Dial life —
And Him —
I Suppose The Time Will Come By Emily Dickinson
I suppose the time will come
Aid it in the coming
When the Bird will crowd the Tree
And the Bee be booming.
I suppose the time will come
Hinder it a little
When the Corn in Silk will dress
And in Chintz the Apple
I believe the Day will be
When the Jay will giggle
At his new white House the Earth
That, too, halt a little —
Aid it in the coming
When the Bird will crowd the Tree
And the Bee be booming.
I suppose the time will come
Hinder it a little
When the Corn in Silk will dress
And in Chintz the Apple
I believe the Day will be
When the Jay will giggle
At his new white House the Earth
That, too, halt a little —
Because I Could Not Stop For Death Emily Dickinson
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 –
Because I could not Stop for Death by Emily Dickinson (read by Tom O'Bedlam)
If this is "fading" By Emily Dickinson
If this is "fading"
Oh let me immediately "fade"!
If this is "dying"
Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
If this is "sleep,"
On such a night
How proud to shut the eye!
Good Evening, gentle Fellow men!
Peacock presumes to die!
Oh let me immediately "fade"!
If this is "dying"
Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
If this is "sleep,"
On such a night
How proud to shut the eye!
Good Evening, gentle Fellow men!
Peacock presumes to die!