Poem!

Today's poem was Because I Could Not Stop For Death by Emily Dickinson.

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 grew quivering and chill,

For only gossamer my gown,

My tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed

A swelling of the ground;

The roof was scarcely visible,

The cornice but a mound.
Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each

Feels shorter than the day

I first surmised the horses' heads

Were toward eternity.

I've mentioned before that she is one of my favorite poets. We were talking about her in class one day and someone mentioned something I think is absolutely hilarious. Almost every Emily Dickinson poem can be sung to "The Yellow Rose of Texas"! There is a YouTube video out there that shows this, but it isn't very good so I didn't want to post it. Every time I read an Emily Dickinson poem now, I hum it to "Yellow Rose of Texas" in my head.

Some Poetry- Emily Dickinson

I was writing a post about Astrology until I started to get a headache. Instead I am going to share a few of my favorite poems from Emily Dickinson. If you like them then maybe I can do this every week. I know Nydia does Favorite Things Thursday every week; this isn't that but I was just in the mood for poetry after reading the poem Mrs. B. put up.


"SOME keep the Sabbath going to church;
I keep it staying at home,
With a bobolink for a chorister,
And an orchard for a dome.

Some keep the Sabbath in surplice;
I just wear my wings,
And instead of tolling the bell for church,
Our little sexton sings.

God preaches,—a noted clergyman,—
And the sermon is never long;
So instead of getting to heaven at last,
I ’m going all along!"


"THE BEE is not afraid of me,
I know the butterfly;
The pretty people in the woods
Receive me cordially.

The brooks laugh louder when I come,
The breezes madder play.
Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists?
Wherefore, O summer’s day?"


"A LITTLE road not made of man,
Enabled of the eye,
Accessible to thill of bee,
Or cart of butterfly.

If town it have, beyond itself,
’T is that I cannot say;
I only sigh,—no vehicle
Bears me along that way."

Emily Dickinson is one of my favorite poets. She has such a unique writing style, and some wonderful ideas. She is also a very local poet. She lived in Amherst, Massachusetts which is only about an hour away from where I live. I would love to go visit the Emily Dickinson Museum some day to learn more about her.