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
I dwell in Possibility --/ A fairer House than Prose --/ More numerous of Windows --/ Superior --for Doors --.
Remorse --is Memory --awake --/ Her Parties all astir --/ A Presence of Departed Acts --/ At window --and at Door --
How softly summer shuts, without the creaking of a door ...
The soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more.
THE soul should always stand ajar, That if the heaven inquire, He will not be obliged to wait, Or shy of troubling her. Depart, before the host has slid The bolt upon the door, To seek for the accomplished guest, -- Her visitor no more.
We never know we go when we are going- We jest and shut the Door- Fate-following-behind us bolts it- And we accost no more-.
Dreams are the subtle Dower That make us rich an Hour Then fling us poor Out of the purple door.
What fortitude the Soul contains, That it can so endure The accent of a coming Foot- The opening of a Door.
When I sound the fairy call, gather here in silent meeiing,Chin to knee on the orchard wall, cooled with dew and cherries eating.Merry, merry, take a cherry, mine are sounder, mine are rounder,Mine are sweeter for the eater, when the dews fall, and you'll be fairies all.
Anger as soon as fed is dead - 'Tis starving that makes it fat
Eden is that old-fashioned house we dwell in every day Without suspecting our abode, until we drive away
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant-- / The Truth must dazzle gradually /Or every man be blind.
To whom the mornings are like nights, What must the midnights be!
Who has not found the heaven below Will fail of it above. God's residence is next to min, His furniture is love.