Celebrating World Poetry Day with Dickinson Snippets—

In honor of World Poetry Day, March 21st, here are 21 incredible Dickinson snippets pulled from both her well-known and lesser-known works:

Remorse—is Memory—awake—

Her Parties all astir—

A Presence of Departed Acts—

At window—and at Door—

It’s Past—set down before the Soul

And lighted with a match—

Perusal—to facilitate—

And help Belief to stretch—


* * * *

A Doubt if it be Us

Assists the staggering Mind

In an extremer Anguish

Until it footing find—


* * * *

When One has given up One’s life

The parting with the rest

Feels easy, as when Day lets go

Entirely the West


* * * *

And this, of all my Hopes

This, is the silent end

Bountiful colored, My Morning rose

Early and sere, its end


* * * *

I cannot be ashamed

Because I cannot see

The love you offer—


Reverses modesty


* * * *

Will pass without the parting

So to spare

Certificate of Absence—

Deeming where

I left Her I could find her

If I tried—

This way, I keep from missing

Those that died

* * * *

The missing All, prevented Me

From missing minor Things.

If nothing larger than a World’s

Departure from a Hinge


* * * *

Bind me—I still can sing—


* * * *

Crumbling is not an instant’s Act

A fundamental pause

Dilapidation’s processes

Are organized Decays—


* * * *

Best Things dwell out of Sight

The Pearl—the Just—Our Thought—

Most shun the Public Air

Legitimate, and Rare


* * * *

Older feel than the Hope that prompted—

Spotless be from blame

Heart that proposed as Heart that accepted

Homelessness, for Home—


* * * *

Too scanty ‘twas to die for you,

The merest Greek could that.

The living, Sweet, is costlier—

I offer even that—


* * * *

The Dying need but little, Dear,

A Glass of Water’s all,

A Flower’s unobtrusive Face

To Punctuate the Wall,

A Fan, perhaps, a Friend’s Regret

And Certainty that one

No color in the Rainbow

Perceive, when you are gone—

* * * *

‘Twas my one Glory—

Let it be


I was owned of Thee—

* * * *

To Whom the Mornings stand for Nights,

What must the Midnights—be!


* * * *

Elder, Today, A session wiser,

And fainter, too as Wiseness is


* * * *

To make Routine a Stimulus

Remember it can cease—


* * * *

So much of Heaven has gone from Earth

That there must be a Heaven


* * * *

We do not know the time we lose—

The awful moment is

And takes its fundamental place

Among the certainties—

A firm appearance still inflates

The card—the chance—the friend—

The spectre of solidities

Whose substances are sand

* * * *

The smouldering embers blush—

Oh Cheek within the Coal

Hast thou survived so many nights?

The smouldering embers smile—


* * * *

The Day She goes

Or Day she stays

Are equally supreme—

Existence has a stated width

Departed, or at Home—

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