the best of emily dickison according to my research

There is Another Sky

There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!




I'm Nobody! Who are You?

I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you -- Nobody -- Too?
Then there's a pair of us!
Don't tell! they'd advertise -- you know!

How dreary -- to be -- Somebody!
How public -- like a Frog --
To tell one's name -- the livelong June --
To an admiring Bog!




Because I Could Not Stop for Death

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 gown
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the GROUND
The roof was scarcely visible
The cornice in the ground.

Since then 'tis centuries and yet
Feels shorter than the DAY
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.




Nobody Knows This Little Rose

Nobody knows this little Rose --
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Ah Little Rose -- how easy
For such as thee to die!




I Started Early -- Took My Dog

I started Early -- Took my Dog --
And visited the Sea --
The Mermaids in the Basement
Came out to look at me --

And Frigates -- in the Upper Floor
Extended Hempen Hands --
Presuming Me to be a Mouse --
Aground -- upon the Sands --

But no Man moved Me -- till the Tide
Went past my simple Shoe --
And past my Apron -- and my Belt --
And past my Bodice -- too --

And made as He would eat me up --
As wholly as a Dew
Upon a Dandelion's Sleeve --
And then -- I started -- too --

And He -- He followed -- close behind --
I felt his Silver Heel
Upon my Ankle -- Then my Shoes
Would overflow with Pearl --

Until We met the Solid Town --
No One He seemed to know --
And bowing -- with a Mighty look --
At me -- The Sea withdrew --




Awake Ye Muses Nine

Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!

Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair!
The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one,
Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun;
The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.
The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small,
None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball;
The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives,
And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves;
The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won,
And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son.
The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful tune,
The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon,
Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn vows,
No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose.
The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride,
Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide;
Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,
And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.
Now to the application, to the reading of the roll,
To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul:
Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone,
Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap'st what thou hast sown.
Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long,
And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song?
There's Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair,
And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair!
Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see
Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree;
Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb,
And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space, or time!
Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower,
And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower --
And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the drum --
And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!

Source: http://helpfulpapers.blogspot.com/2010/02/top-10-emily-dickinson-poems.html

the best of walt whitman according to my research

Poets to Come

Poets to come! orators, singers,
musicians to come!
Not to-day is to justify me, and answer
what I am for;
But you, a new brood, native, athletic, continental,
greater than before known,
Arouse! Arouse—for you must justify me—
you must answer.
I myself but write one or two indicative words
for the future,
I but advance a moment, only to wheel and
hurry back in the darkness.
I am a man who, sauntering along,
without fully stopping, turns a casual look upon you,
and then
averts his face,
Leaving it to you to prove and define it,
Expecting the main things from you.

- Walt Whitman


The Voice of the Rain

And who art thou? said I
to the soft-falling shower,
Which, strange to tell, gave me an answer,
as here translated:
I am the Poem of Earth,
said the voice of the rain,
Eternal I rise impalpable out of the land
and the bottomless sea,
Upward to heaven, whence, vaguely form'd,
altogether changed, and
yet the same,
I descend to lave the drouths, atomies,
dust-layers of the globe,
And all that in them without me were seeds only,
latent, unborn;
And forever, by day and night,
I give back life to my own origin,
and make pure and beautify it;
(For song, issuing from its birth-place,
after fulfilment, wandering,
Reck'd or unreck'd, duly with love returns.

- Walt Whitman
O Captain My Captain

O Captain my Captain!
our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered every rack,
the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear,
the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel,
the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and
hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung
for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths for you
the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass,
their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer,
his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm,
he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound,
its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in
with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

- Walt Whitman
Who is now reading this?

Who is now reading this?
May-be one is now reading this
who knows some wrong-doing of my past life,
Or may-be a stranger is reading this
who has secretly loved me,
Or may-be one who meets all my grand assumptions
and egotisms with derision,
Or may-be one who is puzzled at me.

As if I were not puzzled at myself!
Or as if I never deride myself!
(O conscience-struck! O self-convicted!)
Or as if I do not secretly love strangers!
(O tenderly, a long time, and never avow it;)
Or as if I did not see, perfectly well,
interior in myself, the stuff of wrong-doing,
Or as if it could cease
transpiring from me until it must cease.

- Walt Whitman


To a Stranger

Passing stranger! you do not know
how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking,
or she I was seeking,
(it comes to me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other,
fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me,
were a boy with me
or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you,
your body has become not yours only
nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face,
flesh, as we pass,
you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you,
I am to think of you when I sit alone
or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

- Walt Whitman

Scarlett Letter "A" favorite of mine

The Scarlet Letter was a story written by Nathaniel Hawthorne in the 1800's during the romantic era in Literature.
"it tells the story of Hester Prynne, who conceives a daughter through an adulterous affair and struggles to create a new life of repentance and dignity. Throughout the book, Hawthorne explores themes of legalism, sin, and guilt.(wikipedia.com)."
Plot :

"In June 1642, in the Puritan town of Boston, a crowd gathers to witness an official punishment. A young woman, Hester Prynne, has been found guilty of adultery and must wear a scarlet "A", ('A' is a symbol of adultery and affair) on her dress as a sign of shame. Furthermore, she must stand on the scaffold for three hours, exposed to public humiliation. As Hester approaches the scaffold, many of the women in the crowd are angered by her beauty and quiet dignity. When demanded and cajoled to name the father of her child, Hester refuses.

As Hester looks out over the crowd, she notices a small, misshapen man and recognizes him as her long-lost husband, who has been presumed lost at sea. When the husband sees Hester's shame, he asks a man in the crowd about her and is told the story of his wife's adultery. He angrily exclaims that the child's father, the partner in the adulterous act, should also be punished and vows to find the man. He chooses a new name – Roger Chillingworth – to aid him in his plan(wikipedia.com).

This was my favorite story in the whole semester and I actually liked the story better than the movie

Emily Dickinson

Dickinson wrote about things from her actual life that inspired her such as death and religion. As a detailed observer she also used things from nature and tons of metaphors. My favorite was in her poem "Because I could not stop for Death" where she successfully turns death into a lovely gentleman caller.
Emily Dickinson titled fewer than 10 of her almost 1800 poems. Her poems are now generally known by their first lines or by the numbers assigned to them by posthumous editors
Dickinson used a lot of dashes in her poem rather than periods or commas. 
She also used pathos to appeal to her readers

Walt Whitman

Whitman is one of the greatest staples in American poetry, but i do not care for is work it is boring and difficult to follow. He does enstil some life lessons in his poems, though, such as "keep your face toward the sunshine, and shadows will fall behind you" http://www.poetryfoundation.org/learning/guide/180040
That is a quote that reminds me of happiness, meaning think happy thoughts and darkness(unhappiness) will leave you.
I hated Leaves of grass, that poem was long pointless, and boring.

Emily Dickinson

Dickinson was my favorite section because, and this may sound lazy, but because her poems were so short and to the point and did not take much time to analyze and interrupt. Some of the sections like the very fist pod in the class, every story was dreadfully long and hard to understand enough to complete the discussion questions. I admit that I have had some trouble turning in my work and regret that I keep getting sick and have been unable to complete my assignments.