Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Elizabeth Dickinsonwas an American poet. Dickinson was born in Amherst, Massachusetts. Although part of a prominent family with strong ties to its community, Dickinson lived much of her life highly introverted. After studying at the Amherst Academy for seven years in her youth, she briefly attended the Mount Holyoke Female Seminary before returning to her family's house in Amherst. Considered an eccentric by locals, she developed a noted penchant for white clothing and became known for her reluctance to...
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth10 December 1830
CityAmherst, MA
Will there really be a morning?Is there such a thing as day?...Please to tell a little pilgrimWhere the place called morning lies!
Time is a Test of Trouble But not a Remedy If such it prove, it prove too There was no Malady
We turn not older with years but newer every day.
I felt it shelter to speak to you.
We never know where we go when we are going, We jest and shut the door; Fate - following behind us -bolts it, And we accost no more
We never know how high we are till we are called to rise; and then, if we are true to plan, our stature's touch the skies.
Had I not seen the Sun, I could have borne the shade, But Light a newer Wilderness, My Wilderness has made
The abdication of belief makes the behavior small -- better an ignis fatuus than no illume at all.
Heaven is so far of the mind that were the mind dissolved -- the site of it by architect could not again be proved.
How dreary - to be - somebody! How public - like a frog - to tell your name - the livelong June - to an admiring bog!
This is my letter to the World / That never wrote to Me-- / The simple News that Nature told-- / With tender majesty.
The dandelion's pallid tube/ Astonishes the grass,/ And winter instantly becomes/ An infinite alas.
I cannot live with You --/ It would be Life --/ And Life is over there --/ Behind the Shelf.
The heart asks pleasure first, and then excuse from pain, and then those little anodynes that deaden suffering