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< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XI. Much madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ‘T is the majority In this, as all, prevails. Assent, and you are sane; Demur, — you’re straightway dangerous, And handled with a chain. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. Edited by Mabel […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems X. IN A LIBRARY. A precious, mouldering pleasure ‘t is To meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege, I think, His venerable hand to take, And warming in our own, A passage back, or two, to make To times when he was young. […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems IX. The heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep; And then, if it should be The will of its Inquisitor, The liberty to die. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. Edited by […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems VIII. A wounded deer leaps highest, I’ve heard the hunter tell; ‘T is but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still. The smitten rock that gushes, The trampled steel that springs; A cheek is always redder Just where the hectic stings! Mirth is the mail of […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems VII. ALMOST! Within my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered through the village, Sauntered as soft away! So unsuspected violets Within the fields lie low, Too late for striving fingers That passed, an hour ago. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems VI. If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems V. Glee! The great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation! Toll, for the bonnie souls, — Neighbor and friend and bridegroom, Spinning upon the shoals! How they will tell the shipwreck When winter shakes […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems IV. ROUGE GAGNE. ‘T is so much joy! ‘T is so much joy! If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw; Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so This side the victory! Life is but life, and death but death! Bliss […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems III. ROUGE ET NOIR. Soul, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won an all. Angels’ breathless ballot Lingers to record thee; Imps in eager caucus Raffle for my soul. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. Edited by Mabel […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems II. Our share of night to bear, Our share of morning, Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning. Here a star, and there a star, Some lose their way. Here a mist, and there a mist, Afterwards — day! —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems I. SUCCESS. [Published in “A Masque of Poets” at the request of “H.H.,” the author’s fellow-townswoman and friend.] Success is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple host Who took the flag to-day Can tell the […]

Emily Dickinson Poems Everyone seems to have their favorite Emily Dickinson poems, but she wrote far more than she is often remembered for. We hope you enjoy exploring the range of short and longer poems that the poet penned in her lifetime (often on the back of chocolate wrappers—which we highly approve!). I. Life I. […]

< Return to William Blake Poems On Another’s Sorrow Can I see another’s woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see another’s grief, And not seek for kind relief? Can I see a falling tear, And not feel my sorrow’s share? Can a father see his child Weep, nor be with sorrow filled? […]

< Return to William Blake Poems A Dream Once a dream did weave a shade O’er my angel-guarded bed, That an emmet lost its way Where on grass methought I lay. Troubled, wildered, and forlorn, Dark, benighted, travel-worn, Over many a tangled spray, All heart-broke, I heard her say: ‘O my children! do they cry, […]

< Return to William Blake Poems Infant Joy ‘I have no name; I am but two days old.’ What shall I call thee? ‘I happy am, Joy is my name.’ Sweet joy befall thee! Pretty joy! Sweet joy, but two days old. Sweet joy I call thee: Thou dost smile, I sing the while; Sweet […]

< Return to William Blake Poems Nurse’s Song When voices of children are heard on the green, And laughing is heard on the hill, My heart is at rest within my breast, And everything else is still. ‘Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, And the dews of night arise; Come, come, […]

< Return to William Blake Poems Spring Sound the flute! Now it’s mute! Birds delight, Day and night, Nightingale, In the dale, Lark in sky,— Merrily, Merrily, merrily to welcome in the year. Little boy, Full of joy; Little girl, Sweet and small; Cock does crow, So do you; Merry voice, Infant noise; Merrily, merrily […]