Enjoy reading Emily Dickinson Poem which are about love and death. Her Love Poems often show the feelings of desire and longing, while her Poems about Death explore the unknown and try to make sense of it. She has used quite simple words in her poetry, but her poems always carry a charm of deeper meanings.
One of her famous poems Because I Could Not Stop for Death talks about the death as if it were a kind person who takes the speaker on a peaceful ride in a carriage. The poem shows that the death is not something to fear about but it is just a part of the journey of life. She describes the journey in a calm way which help the readers see the death in a softer light.
In her Love Poems, Dickinson writes about wanting something or someone or some person but not being able to have them. Her words are simple yet deep which make love feel both close and far away at the same time. Many poeple can relate to these feelings, which is why her love poems are still loved today. Make sure to read all of these poems and do not forget to share them with your friends and family. Happy reading!!
Emily Dickinson Poems
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!
From Tankards scooped in Pearl –
Not all the Frankfort Berries
Yield such an Alcohol!
Inebriate of air – am I –
And Debauchee of Dew –
Reeling – thro’ endless summer days –
From inns of molten Blue –
Out of the Foxglove’s door –
When Butterflies – renounce their “drams” –
I shall but drink the more!
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Emily Dickinson Famous Poems
He did not know I saw –
He bit an Angle Worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,
And then, he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass –
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass –
That hurried all abroad –
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought,
He stirred his Velvet Head. –
Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers,
And rowed him softer Home –
Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon,
Leap, plashless as they swim.
In Corners – till a Day
The Owner passed – identified –
And carried Me away –
And now We roam in Sovreign Woods –
And now We hunt the Doe –
And every time I speak for Him
The Mountains straight reply –
And do I smile, such cordial light
Opon the Valley glow –
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let it’s pleasure through –
I guard My Master’s Head –
’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s
Deep Pillow – to have shared –
To foe of His – I’m deadly foe –
None stir the second time –
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye –
Or an emphatic Thumb –
Though I than He – may longer live
He longer must – than I –
For I have but the power to kill,
Without – the power to die –
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —
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Poems by Emily Dickinson
And in my wondering hand
A Stranger pressed a Kingdom,
And I, bewildered, stand—
As if I asked the Orient
Had it for me a Morn—
And it should lift its purple Dikes,
And shatter me with Dawn!
Had I Art—
Impregnable my Fortress
Unto All Heart—
But since Myself—assault Me—
How have I peace
Except by subjugating
Consciousness?
And since We’re mutual Monarch
How this be
Except by Abdication—
Me—of Me?
Fond, and late—
We speculated fair, on every subject, but the Grave—
Of ours, none affair—
We handled Destinies, as cool—
As we—Disposers—be—
And God, a Quiet Party
To our Authority—
As we eventual—be—
When Girls to Women, softly raised
We—occupy—Degree—
We parted with a contract
To cherish, and to write
But Heaven made both, impossible
Before another night.
A trinket—to confer—
It helps to stimulate the faith
When Lovers be afar—
‘Tis various—as the various taste—
Clematis—journeying far—
Presents me with a single Curl
Of her Electric Hair—
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Emily Dickinson Love Poems
Imperfectly beheld—
The Lady date not lift her Veil
For fear it be dispelled—
But peers beyond her mesh—
And wishes—and denies—
Lest Interview—annul a want
That Image—satisfies—
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.
Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—
The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He’s Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—
It would be Life –
And Life is over there –
Behind the Shelf
The Sexton keeps the Key to –
Putting up
Our Life – His Porcelain –
Like a Cup –
Discarded of the Housewife –
Quaint – or Broke –
A newer Sevres pleases –
Old Ones crack –
For One must wait
To shut the Other’s Gaze down –
You – could not –
And I – could I stand by
And see You – freeze –
Without my Right of Frost –
Death’s privilege?
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Emily Dickinson Death Poem
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-
Who till they died, did not alive become—
Who had they lived, had died but when
They died, Vitality begun.
Except that it is gone
Are ignorant of its Concern
As if it were not born.
Through all their former Places, we
Like Individuals go
Who something lost, the seeking for
Is all that’s left them, now—
Hiding individuals from the Earth
Superposition helps, as well as love—
Tenderness decreases as we prove—
The Spirit and the Dust.
‘Dissolve’ says Death—The Spirit ‘Sir
I have another Trust’—
Death doubts it—Argues from the Ground—
The Spirit turns away
Just laying off for evidence
An Overcoat of Clay.
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Emily Dickinson Poem 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—
At Recess—in the Ring—
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain—
We passed the Setting Sun—
The Dews drew quivering and chill—
For only Gossamer, my Gown—
My Tippet—only Tulle—
A Swelling of the Ground—
The Roof was scarcely visible—
The Cornice—in the Ground—
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity—