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Emily Elizabeth Dickinson was born on December 10, 1830, in Amherst, Massachusetts, and died on May 15, 1886, also in Amherst. She was an American lyric poet whose work has become central to U.S. literature.
She came from a well-established local family. Her father, Edward Dickinson, was a lawyer and politician; her mother, Emily Norcross, more private. Dickinson received formal schooling (Amherst Academy, a year at Mount Holyoke Seminary) but spent most of her life in her family home in Amherst.
Dickinson had wide reading, was interested in the Bible, hymnody, and Romantic and Metaphysical poetry, and she was aware of contemporary writers. Her style is distinctive: short lines, unconventional punctuation and capitalization, frequent use of slant rhyme, dense imagery, compressed thought. She did not belong to a formal “movement” in her lifetime, but critics often place her work as a precursor to modern poetry in America, in part because of how she broke conventions.
Her legacy is large and complicated. During her life she published very little—only about ten poems were published while she was alive, and those often altered by editors to fit norms of the day.
After her death, her sister Lavinia discovered around 1,800 poems in manuscripts and hand-sewn booklets (called fascicles). Over time editions appeared, sometimes heavily edited, but eventually more faithful editions revealed her originality and influence.
Because she challenged the norms of her time—serving her vision rather than convention—and because her poetry explores themes of death, immortality, identity, nature, and inner life, Dickinson is now regarded as one of the most important American poets.
Her voice, which was private and intense in life, now speaks broadly to readers about existence, permanence, and mystery.
You may learn more at the Poetry Foundation and Wikipedia.
He fought like those Who’ve nought to lose
Emily Dickinson
He fought like those Who’ve nought to lose—
Bestowed Himself to Balls
As One who for a further Life
My Portion is Defeat—today
Emily Dickinson
My Portion is Defeat—today—
A paler luck than Victory—
Less Paeans—fewer Bells—
When I was small, a Woman died
Emily Dickinson
When I was small, a Woman died—
Today—her Only Boy
Went up from the Potomac—
It feels a shame to be Alive
Emily Dickinson
It feels a shame to be Alive—
When Men so brave—are dead—
One envies the Distinguished Dust—
If any sink, assure that this, now standing
Emily Dickinson
If any sink, assure that this, now standing—
Failed like Themselves—and conscious that it rose—
Grew by the Fact, and not the Understanding
Of Bronze—and Blaze
Emily Dickinson
Of Bronze—and Blaze—
The North—Tonight—
So adequate—it forms—
To fight aloud is very brave – (138)
Emily Dickinson
To fight aloud, is very brave –
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom