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Found 3 results

  1. Rereading posts by other members on this unique American poet, I thought I'd post a couple of my favorites of hers: 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 – We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess – in the Ring – We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – We passed the Setting Sun – Or rather – He passed us – The Dews drew quivering and chill – For only Gossamer, my
  2. Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile – the winds – To a heart in port – Done with the compass – Done with the chart! Rowing in Eden – Ah, the sea! Might I moor – Tonight – In thee! Now what can I say about this poem. Well I could begin with a Kenneth Williams style "ooohh maatron" Apart from the poetry I studied at school I have no formal education in poetry and therefore feel unqualified to say whether it has poetic merit. I love the poem because of the way it conveys both a sense of wild erotic excitement along wi
  3. Given the success of David's Seamus Heaney thread, I thought I'd take a risk on a different poet and see what happened. Emily Dickinson was an American poet, writing in the second half of the 19th century. I think she was virtually unrecognised and unpublished in her life time, and virtually a recluse for the later part of her life. There's a certain Slant of Light There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us— We can find no scar, But internal difference, Where the Meanings, are— N
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