Death:

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, be passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

The bustle in a house

The bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon earth, -

The sweeping up the heart,
And putting love away
We shall not want to use again
Until eternity.

Funeral in the brain

  I felt a funeral in my brain,
        And mourners, to and fro,
Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
        That sense was breaking through.

And when they all were seated,
        A service like a drum
Kept beating, beating, till I thought
        My mind was going numb.

And then I heard them lift a box,
        And creak across my soul
With those same boots of lead,
        Then space began to toll

As all the heavens were a bell,
        And Being but an ear,
And I and silence some strange race,
        Wrecked, solitary, here.

Love:

            Some of Dickinson’s poetry has an emphasis on love.  I believe she longed for love through out her life.  She wanted someone to love and someone to love her.  The poem if you were coming in the fall is an excellent example of this.   She writes what she would do if someone she loved came in the fall.  To me this poem shows that she wanted to marry and spend an eternity with someone. 

If you were coming in the fall

If you were coming in the fall,
I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.

If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.

If only centuries delayed,
I'd count them on my hand,
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemens land.

If certain, when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I'd toss it yonder like a rind,
And taste eternity.

But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time's uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.

Pain and Separation:

             Another major theme that can be found through out Dickinson’s poetry is Pain and separation.  In her poem known as Love can do all but raise the dead, she expresses the loss of a loved one.  The poem, “After great pain a formal feeling comes”, she talks about how she felt after experiencing a great lost.   The last two lines express how you become almost bitter.    In anther poem know as, “I'm nobody! Who are you?” Dickinson shows her secluded nature.  This poem also explains why Dickinson published her poetry anonymously in her life time.  She did not want to be in the public’s eye.  

Love can do all but raise the dead

Love can do all but raise the Dead
I doubt if even that
From such a giant were withheld
Were flesh equivalent

But love is tired and must sleep,
And hungry and must graze
And so abets the shining Fleet
Till it is out of gaze.

After great pain a formal feeling comes-- pg 162

After great pain a formal feeling comes--
The nerves sit ceremonious like tombs;
The stiff Heart questions--was it He that bore?
And yesterday -- or centuries before?

The feet, mechanical, go round
A wooden way
Of ground, or air, or ought,
Regardless grown,
A quartz contentment, like a stone.

This is the hour of lead
Remembered if outlived,
As freezing persons recollect the snow--
First chill, then stupor, then the letting go.

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 banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

God and Religion:

It is not surprising that God and religion is a major theme in Dickinson’s poetry.  Most of her family members were part of the Congregational church, thus religion and God was a major influence in her life.  Many of Dickinson’s poems are directed toward God, such as her poem known as “Good morning-midnight.”  In this poem is referring to God.  Her relationship with God concerned her through out her life.  This poem expresses how she felt God thought of her.  In her poem, "Heaven"—is what I cannot reach!”, also expresses her concerns with God.  It is almost like she didn’t feel deserving to go to heaven, or she didn’t think she would be with God after death.  This theory also could explain why she feared death.   

Good morning-midnight pg 203

Good Morning - Midnight -
I'm coming Home -
Day - got tired of Me -
How could I - of Him?

Sunshine was a sweet place -
I liked to stay -
But Morn - did'nt want me - now -
So - Goodnight - Day!

I can look - cant I -
When the East is Red?
The Hills - have a way - then -
That puts the Heart - abroad -

You - are not so fair - Midnight -
I chose - Day -
But - please take a little Girl
He turned away!

Heaven is what I cannot reach! pg 109

"Heaven"—is what I cannot reach!
The Apple on the Tree—
Provided it do hopeless—hang—
That—"Heaven" is—to Me!

The Color, on the Cruising Cloud—
The interdicted Land—
Behind the Hill—the House behind—
There—Paradise—is found!

Her teasing Purples—Afternoons—
The credulous—decoy—
Enamored—of the Conjuror—
That spurned us—Yesterday!

Nature:

Nature is a theme that Dickinson consistently used throughout her poetry.  She used nature to create imagery as well as to convey emotions.  Flowers, birds, and bee’s dominate the majority of these nature themed poems.  The poem, “Nature, the gentlest mother,” is a beautiful poem that reveals Dickinson’s love for nature.  She was truly inspired by the simplest things in life, such as the sunset, or the tune of a tiny bird.   Dickinson’s poem now known as, “No Bobolink -- reverse His Singing” proves that she admired the birds, bees, flowers, and trees.  

Nature- the gentlest mother is- pg.  385

Nature, the gentlest mother,
Impatient of no child,
The feeblest or the waywardest,
Her admonition mild

In forest and the hill
By traveller is heard,
Restraining rampant squirrel
Or too impetuous bird.

How fair her conversation,
A summer afternoon,--
Her household, her assembly;
And when the sun goes down

Her voice among the aisles
Incites the timid prayer
Of the minutest cricket,
The most unworthy flower.

When all the children sleep
She turns as long away
As will suffice to light her lamps;
Then, bending from the sky

With infinite affection
And infinite care,
Her golden finger on her lip,
Wills silence everywhere.