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    Five Great Poets: Shakespeare, Keats, Poe, Dickinson and Whitman (Dover Thrift Editions) (Paperback) By (author) Emily Dickinson

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    DescriptionGernerally considered among the greatest American poets, Emily Dickinson has been read, studied and admired by generations of literature students and poetry lovers. This modestly priced new edition presents over 100 of her best-known, best-loved poems, reprinted from authoritative early editions.


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  • Full bibliographic data for Five Great Poets

    Title
    Five Great Poets
    Subtitle
    Shakespeare, Keats, Poe, Dickinson and Whitman
    Authors and contributors
    By (author) Emily Dickinson
    Physical properties
    Format: Paperback
    Number of pages: 64
    Width: 126 mm
    Height: 202 mm
    Thickness: 6 mm
    Weight: 59 g
    Language
    English
    ISBN
    ISBN 13: 9780486264660
    ISBN 10: 0486264661
    Classifications

    Warengruppen-Systematik des deutschen Buchhandels: 21500
    B&T Merchandise Category: GEN
    B&T Book Type: NF
    Nielsen BookScan Product Class 3: T3.1
    BIC E4L: LIT
    BIC subject category V2: DCF
    DC20: 811.4
    Ingram Theme: APPR/CLASSA
    Ingram Subject Code: PO
    Libri: I-PO
    B&T General Subject: 640
    DC22: 811.4, 811/.4
    LC classification: PS1541.A6
    BISAC V2.8: POE005010, POE024000
    LC classification: PS1541 .A6 1990
    Thema V1.0: DCF
    Edition
    New edition
    Edition statement
    New edition
    Publisher
    Dover Publications Inc.
    Imprint name
    Dover Publications Inc.
    Publication date
    18 March 1991
    Publication City/Country
    New York
    Back cover copy
    This book contains selected poems written by Emily Dickinson.
    Table of contents
    A bird came down the walk A clock stopped?not the mantel'sA door just opened on a street?A drop fell on the apple treeAfter a hundred yearsA light exists in springA little road not made of man"A long, long sleep, a famous sleep"Ample make this bedA narrow fellow in the grassAn everywhere of silverA shady friend for torrid daysA thought went up my mind to-dayBecause I could not stop for DeathBefore you thought of springDeath sets a thing significantDelight becomes pictorialDeparted to the judgmentEach life converges to some centreFor each ecstatic instantGod gave a loaf to every birdGod made a little gentianGod permits industrious angels"Going to him! Happy letter! Tell him?"Good night! which put the candle out?Heaven is what I cannot reach!He fumbles at your spiritHer final summer was itHope is the thing with feathersI breathed enough to learn the trickI cannot live with you"I died for beauty, but was scarce"I dreaded that first robin so I felt a cleaving in my mindI felt a funeral in my brainIf I can stop one heart from breakingI found the phrase to every thoughtIf you were coming in the fallI had been hungry all the years"I had no time to hate, because"I heard a fly buzz when I diedI held a jewel in my fingersI know a place where summer strivesI like to see it lap the milesI lived on dread: to those who know"I'll tell you how the sun rose,?"I meant to find her when I cameI measure every grief I meetI'm nobody! Who are you?"I never hear the word "escape"I never saw a moorI stepped from plank to plankI taste a liquor never brewedIt dropped so low in my regardIt is an honorable thoughtIt's all I have to bring to-day"It's like the light,?"It struck me everyday"It was not death, for I stood up""I went to heaven,?"I years had been from homeLike trains of cars on tracks of plushMe! Come! My dazzled faceMy life closed twice before it closeMy nosegays are for captivesNature rarer uses yellow"Nature, the gentlest mother"Not in this world to see his faceOf all the souls that stand createOne need not be a chamber to be hauntedOur journey had advancedPain has an element of blankPresentiment is that long shadow on the lawnSafe in their alabaster chambers"She rose to his requirement, dropped"She sweeps with many-colored broomsSo bashful when I spied herSo proud she was to dieThe brain within its grooveThe bustle in a houseThe cricket sang"The day came so slow, till five o'clock""The dying need but little, dear,?"The heart asks pleasure first"The nearest dream recedes, unrealized"The only ghost I ever sawThe pedigree of honeyThere is no frigate like a bookThere's a certain slant of lightThere's been a death in the opposite houseThe show is not the show"The sky is low, the clouds are mean"The thought beneath so slight a filmThe wind begun to rock the grassThe wind tapped like a tired man"They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars"They say that 'time assuages'?This is my letter to the worldThis is the land the sunset washes"Tie the strings to my life, my Lord"To my quick ear the leaves conferredT was just this time last year I diedTwo butterflies went out at noonVictory comes late"We like March, his shoes are purple"We outgrow love like other thingsWe play at pasteWild nights! Wild nights!"You left me, sweet, two legacies,?"