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Emily Dickinson | Poem

Success is counted sweetest

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I’m Nobody! Who Are You?
Success is counted sweetest
I heard a Fly buzz – when I died
As if I asked a common Alms

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I’m Nobody! Who Are You?

Emily Dickinson | Poem



William Shakespeare
Jalaluddin Rumi
Emily Dickinson
Edgar Allan Poe

Juliet’s Soliloquy

“When daisies pied and violets blue”

“O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?”

“Under the greenwood tree”

Where did the handsome beloved go

There is a life-force within your soul

Let go of your worries

There is a Candle

Mine—by the Right of the White Election!

Midsummer, was it, when They died

Me, change! Me, alter!

Me! Come! My dazzled face 😊

To Isadore

The City in the Sea

The Village Street

An Acrostic

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 day

To an admiring bog!

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 today

Can tell the definition

So clear of victory

As he defeated – dying –

On whose forbidden ear

The distant strains of triumph

Burst agonized and clear!

I heard a Fly buzz – when I died

I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air –

Between the Heaves of Storm –

The Eyes around – had wrung them dry –

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset – when the King

Be witnessed – in the Room –

I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable – and then it was

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 –

“Hope” is the thing with feathers

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words –

And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –

And sore must be the storm –

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –

And on the strangest Sea –

Yet – never – in Extremity,

It asked a crumb – of me.

William Shakespeare
Jalaluddin Rumi
Emily Dickinson
Edgar Allan Poe

Juliet’s Soliloquy

“When daisies pied and violets blue”

“O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?”

“Under the greenwood tree”

Where did the handsome beloved go

There is a life-force within your soul

Let go of your worries

There is a Candle

Mine—by the Right of the White Election!

Midsummer, was it, when They died

Me, change! Me, alter!

Me! Come! My dazzled face 😊

To Isadore

The City in the Sea

The Village Street

An Acrostic

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 day

To an admiring bog!

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 today

Can tell the definition

So clear of victory

As he defeated – dying –

On whose forbidden ear

The distant strains of triumph

Burst agonized and clear!

I heard a Fly buzz – when I died

I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air –

Between the Heaves of Storm –

The Eyes around – had wrung them dry –

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset – when the King

Be witnessed – in the Room –

I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable – and then it was

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 –

“Hope” is the thing with feathers

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words –

And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –

And sore must be the storm –

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –

And on the strangest Sea –

Yet – never – in Extremity,

It asked a crumb – of me.