Poetry by Emily Dickinson

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Poetry by Emily Dickinson

Because I Could Not Stop for Death
Better Than Music
CHARTLESS
CONSTANT
FLOWERS
Hope is a Subtle Glutton
Hope is the Thing with Feathers
How Happy is the Little Stone
I Died for Beauty
IT DROPPED SO LOW
Much Madness Is Divinest Sense
No Rack Can Torture Me
Not In Vain
Of All The Souls
SUCCESS IS COUNTED SWEETEST
SOME KEEP SUNDAY GOING TO CHURCH
Some Keep the Sabbath Going to Church
THE CHILD’S QUESTION
The Life We Have Is Very Great
The Mountains Stood in Haze
THERE CAME A WIND LIKE A BUGLE
These Are the Days When Birds Come Back
The Sky Is Low, the Clouds Are Mean
The Soul Selects Her Own Society
THIS IS MY LETTER TO THE WORLD
We Learned the Whole of Love
We Like March
Winter Is Good
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About the Author

Emily Dickinson, who was born in Amherst, Massachusetts 10 December 1830, wrote nearly three thousand short poems during her last twenty-six years. Only three of these were published in her lifetime.

She died 15 May 1886 and at her funeral, Thomas Wentworth Higginson, a popular writer, read Emily Brontë’s “No Coward Soul Is Mine,” which is also known as “Last Lines.”