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
Unto a broken heart No other one may go Without the high prerogative Itself hath suffered too.
He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees. Prepares your brittle substance For the ethereal blow by fainter hammers, further heard, Then nearer, then so slow Your breath has time to straighten Your brain to bubble cool,- Deals one imperial thunderbolt That scalps your naked soul.
God, keep me from what they call 'households,'
To fight aloud is very brave, but gallanter, I know, who charge within the bosom, the Cavalry of Woe.
I hope you're very careful working, eating and drinking when the heat is so great--there are temptations there which at home you are free from--beware the juicy fruits, and the cooling ades, and cordials, and do not eat ice-cream, it is so very dangerous.
No Life can pompless pass away - The lowliest career To the same Pageant wends its way As that exalted here -
I took one Draught of Life - I'll tell you what I paid - Precisely an existence - The market price, they said.
You remember my ideal cat has always a huge rat in its mouth, just going out of sight - though going out of sight in itself has a peculiar pleasure.
Not if Their Party were waiting, Not if to talk with Me Were to Them now, Homesickness After Eternity.
A color stands abroad on solitary hills that silence cannot overtake, but human nature feels.
Faith slips - and laughs, and rallies
I would paint a portrait which would bring the tears, had I canvas for it, and the scene should be -- solitude, and the figures -- solitude -- and the lights and shades, each a solitude.
Prayer is the little implement through which men reach; where presence is denied them.
September's Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets - Crows - and Retrospects And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming - An Innuendo sear That makes the Heart put up its Fun And turn Philosopher.