Emily Dickinson was born in Amherst,
Massachusetts, the daughter of a respected Amherst lawyer and his wife.
She lived her life in her father's house, located in Amherst, with her
parents and younger sister while her brother and his wife lived next door.
She was educated in local schools and at Mount Holyoke Female Seminary.
Her childhood, and also her adolescent years, were active and social,
but following a trip to Washington and Philadelphia in 1855, she
retreated to a quiet life, never leaving Amherst except for 2 trips
(for eye care) to Boston. She saw few people outside her immediate
family and old friends, eventually drawing into seclusion. On May 15,
1886, Emily Dickinson died after a two year illness. Except for seven
anonymous verses, her poems were unpublished during her lifetime. They
were found after her death stuffed in books, boxes, and hidden throughout
her room. Editions of sections of them have appeared over the years
since then. The beauty of Emily Dickinson's poetry is that the meaning
is not always clear, and the reader can draw from their own experiences
to derive an appreciation of the poem that is unique to their lives. No one
knows the feelings behind Dickinson's poetry and why she wrote what she
did. But her gift to the world was one that she never really intended to give:
poetry that expressed her emotions, but that allowed others in the future to
express their own emotions through her poetry. The following are a few of
my favorite poems that helped me to broaden my mind, open my heart, and enjoy
poetry that I never thought I could appreciate. And the beauty of it all is that
there is no ONE meaning. As long as there are people reading her poetry, there
are going to be infinite numbers of appreciations.
A Word A Word is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just Begins to live That day.
Dying I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm. The eyes beside had wrung them dry, And breaths were gathering sure For that last onset, when the king Be witnessed in his power. I willed my keepsakes, signed away What Portion of me I Could make assignable - and then There interposed a fly, With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz, Between the light and me; And then the windows failed, and then I could not see to see.
A Thought Went Up in My Mind To-day A thought went up in my mind to-day That I have had before, But did not finish, - some way back, I could not fix the year, Nor where is went, nor why it came The second time to me, Nor definitely what it was, Have I the art to say. But somewhere in my soul, I know I've met the thing before; It just reminded me - 't was all - And came my way no more.
Success is Counted Sweetest 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 definition, So clear, of victory, As he, defeated, dying, On whose forbidden ear The distant strains of triumph Break, agonized and clear.
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