The Great Poets – Emily Dickinson

Naxos AudioBooks: NA185612

Prices shown exclude VAT. (UK tax is not payable for deliveries to United States.)
See Terms & Conditions for p&p rates.
The Great Poets – Emily Dickinson

Catalogue No:




Release date:

28th Jan 2008




73 minutes


| Share

The Great Poets – Emily Dickinson

Read by Teresa Gallagher



Usually despatched in 2 - 3 working days.

Born in Massachusetts in 1830, Emily Dickinson composed over 1770 poems; but apart from her closest friends, no-one knew she was writing at all. Only after her death was her astonishing output discovered and published. A reclusive figure for much of her life, few could have imagined the range of her subjects, the intensity of her imagination or the powerful delicacy of her writing. Emily Dickinson is one of America’s greatest writers. This selection includes 147 of her best known poems, and is a perfect introduction to her unique voice.

Emily Dickinson: The Great Poets

A drop fell on the apple tree

A narrow Fellow in the Grass

A poor torn heart, a tattered heart

A something in a summer’s day

A still - Volcano - Life - A thought went up my mind to-day

A toad can die of light! - A word is dead

A wounded deer leaps highest - Adrift! A little boat adrift!

After great pain, a formal feeling comes

All the letters I can write - Alter? When the hills do

Ample make this bed - Apparently with no surprise

As imperceptibly as Grief - Beauty – be not caused – It Is

Because I could not stop for Death

Come slowly, Eden!

Dear March, come in!

Death is a dialogue between - Drab habitation of whom

Drowning is not so pitiful - Each that we lose takes part of us

Eden is that old fashioned House - Exultation is the going

Fame is a fickle food - Finite to fail but infinite to venture

Forbidden fruit a flavor has - Forever – is composed of Nows

Glee! The great storm is over

He ate and drank the precious words - He fumbles at your Soul

He touched me, so I live to know

Heart not so heavy as mine

Heart! We will forget him! - Heaven is what I cannot reach!

Heaven is what I cannot reach! - Hope is a subtle glutton

Hope is the thing with feathers - How happy is the little Stone

How the old Mountains drip with Sunset

I asked no other thing - I bring an unaccustomed wine

I can wade grief

I cannot live with you

I died for beauty, but was scarce

I dreaded that first Robin, so

I dwell in Possibility

I envy seas whereon he rides

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain

I gave myself to him

I had no cause to be awake

I had no time to hate, because I have never seen “Volcanoes”

I have no life but this - I heard a fly buzz when I died

I hide myself within my flower - I know a place where summer strives

I know some lonely houses off the road

I many times thought peace had come - I meant to find her when I came

I meant to have but modest needs

I never saw a moor

I should not dare to leave my friend

I stepped from plank to plank

I taste a liquor never brewed

I think the hemlock likes to stand

I took my power in my hand - I went to heaven

If I can stop one heart from breaking - If I may have it when it’s dead

If recollecting were forgetting - If you were coming in the fall

I’ll tell you how the Sun rose

I’m Nobody! Who are you? - Is Heaven a physician?

It might be easier - It sounded as if the streets were running

It tossed and tossed

It was not Death, for I stood up

It’s such a little thing to weep - Like Rain it sounded till it curved

Love is anterior to life - Luck is not chance

Mine by the right of the white election! - Mine enemy is growing old

Much madness is divinest sense - My life closed twice before its close

My Life had stood – a Loaded Gun

Nature rarer uses yellow - Not knowing when the dawn will come

Not with a Club, the Heart is broken - Of all the souls that stand create

On this wondrous sea

One blessing had I, than the rest

One need not be a chamber – to be Haunted

Pain has an element of blank - Proud of my broken heart since thou didst break it

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers - She died – this was the way she died

Some keep the Sabbath going to church - Success is counted sweetest

Surgeons must be very careful - Tell all the truth but tell it slant

That after Horror

That I did always love - That Love is all there is

The brain within its groove - The day came slow till five o’clock

The Dying need but little, Dear

The grass so little has to do

The grave my little cottage is - The heart asks pleasure first

The leaves, like women, interchange - The moon is distant from the sea

The one that could repeat the summer day - The pedigree of honey

The rat is the concisest tenant

The Soul has Bandaged moments

The soul should always stand ajar - The spider as an artist

The waters chased him as he fled

The way I read a letter’s this

The wind begun to rock the grass

There came a Wind like a Bugle - There is no frigate like a book

There’s a certain slant of light

There’s been a death in the opposite house

They might not need me – yet they might - They say that ‘time assuages’

This is my letter to the world

This World is not Conclusion

‘Tis little I could care for pearls

‘Tis not that Dying hurts us so - To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee

‘Twas like a Maelstrom, with a notch

Unable are the Loved to die - We never know how high we are

We never know we go, – when are we going - What if I say I shall not wait?

What inn is this - Where Thou art – that

While I was fearing it, it came - Wild nights! Wild nights!

Will there really be a morning?

You left me, sweet, two legacies

The Observer

17th February 2008

“Teresa Gallagher gives Emily Dickinson a New England voice that succeeds in conveying the poet’s distinctive duality: her gentle, mystical other-worldliness underscored by a resolute strength.”

Copyright © 2002-17 Presto Classical Limited, all rights reserved.