*Mar 14 2026 | Emily Brontë & Emily Dickinson: Two Poems on hope

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      Hope by Emily Brontë
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Hope was but a timid friend-
She sat without my grated den
Watching how my fate would tend
Even as selfish-hearted men.

She was cruel in her fear.
Through the bars, one dreary day,
I looked out to see her there
And she turned her face away!

Like a false guard false watch keeping
Still in strife she whispered peace;
She would sing while I was weeping,
If I listened, she would cease.

False she was, and unrelenting.
When my last joys strewed the ground
Even sorrow saw repenting
Those sad relics scattered round;

Hope - whose whisper would have given
Balm to all that frenzied pain -
Stretched her wings and soared to heaven;
Went- and ne'er returned again!

https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hope/

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    'Hope' is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson
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“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.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42889/hope-is-the-thing-with-feathers-314

I wanted to do something different, instead of one poem I’m going for 2 that cover the same theme of hope from different perspectives and are by two poets: Emily Brontë (1818–1848) and Emily Dickinson (1830 –1886).

I also think it’s interesting how these two readings also bring in more interpretations of: Emily Brontë’s poem this one https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMfBwlISVPg and Emily Dickinson’s poem https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_KRY5na3ow read by the actress Juliet Stevenson.

When I think of hope, I think of it more like Emily Dickinson’s but I really like how Emily Brontë widens the notion to the possibilities of hope.

>1 AnishaInkspill: Ahh, these are thought provoking Anisha.

I can't decide whether they portray similar ideas of hope or polar opposite ones... I wonder if the two Emily's hoped for the same thing?

Thank you for sharing.

>2 AnishaInkspill: I think of it more like Emily Dickinson’s but I really like how Emily Brontë widens the notion to the possibilities of hope.

I think this captures my sense of it, too. But seeing it expressed so clearly forced a reckoning of sorts: is Dickinson's merely how I want to see Hope? Or is it actually how I believe it to be? And that, I'm not ready to answer yet.

ETA I very much appreciate you trying this different approach to our weekly poem. Not only a conversation about a poem, but a conversation between poets, and across poems.

>1 AnishaInkspill: What a fascinating approach in your contribution for the Collective, Anisha!!

How is it that these two 19th century women, both struggling with social confinements and exclusion, living at same time but separated by an ocean of distance, should both write a poem about hope? Both personifying it as a way to contend with it.

Also interestingly, is how each felt about her poetry. Brontë was very angry at sister Charlotte for reading hers without permission. Dickinson could hardly bring herself to share and when she did was told she should really not be dabbling in poetry, it's not a woman's thing.

Yet, writing was everything to each (unmarried, childless, motherless) woman, and had the strength to let nothing stop them. Thus, hope's fickle ways must have been something they surely debated within themselves, perhaps daily. Hope for both was presented as a tenacious creature. Like themselves.

It doesn't surprise me that Brontë would take a darker view of hope. She had more interaction with the hard world of lack, thus seeing how little hope might or might not do. (Yet she was successful in her lifetime, thanks to Charlotte.) Dickenson had the dubious privilege of self-secluding from that hard world, only touching it often enough to be burned each time. She was even burned, you might say, for some decades after her death, with the manipulation and "softening" of her maverick poems, until the first scholarly publication 1955 when the public first saw real Dickenson poetry.

Of these two poems, I found more of my own feelings about the subject in Brontë, though god knows how much I love Dickenson.

Anisha, what a stimulating thing you've done for us here! I haven't spoken much about the actual two poems but have immensely enjoyed considering the comparisons of the two poets. I may swing back around and talk about the poems later, each so deserving of attention.

>1 AnishaInkspill: Thank you for sharing these. Such an interesting contrast on hope in the presence of strife, Dickinson's character faithful through, Bronte's false, ultimately abandoning her charge (I can see the author of Wuthering Heights here).

The lines 'Still in strife she whispered peace;' and 'If I listened, she would cease.' sounds like a neglectful angel, easily distracted, not wanting to be bothered - such a harsh tone but closer to 19th century England, a tone shift brought about when the community of writers expanded beyond men, aristocrats and clergy.

I typically view hope as something that only sings if you're listening to it, so I find Bronte's description of how "If I listened, she would cease," to be quite heart-breaking. I think we must have hope, we must look for it, even when it unjustified, because hope is a precursor to change. Things rarely get if we don't we believe they will but I don't think I see that Dickinson's poem either, as she describes hope as asking not 'a crumb' of her.

It's quite interesting to me that between these two poems from different women with different experiences of hope, I don't quite find myself agreeing with either. I find myself empathising though — it reminds me how my admittedly pretty easy life definitely affects they way I see such things, as I don't think I've been in place where hope is all I've had to rely on, never been in a such a storm to see whether hope is a bird that keeps me warm, or a bird that "Stretched her wings and soared to heaven."

One thing I do love about Dickinson's poem though is how is describes hope as a "tune without the words," which is quite special to me as because I grew up religious, all the hope we were taught to have had very specific words taken from the only book that contained hope. Dickinson speaks though of a hope that is not grounded in religion, or false sentiment, but something that is more fundamental, something that we can all share no matter our creed.

Also love the description of 'frenzied pain', it's so evocative.

>3 TonjaE:, >4 elenchus:, >5 DebiCates:, >6 DAGray08:, >7 Interstellar_Octopus:

thanks for all your input, when I read these it was the contrast that struck me first followed by the poets similarities and differences. As soon I get a bit more time I want to highlight more to discover this idea of 'hope', and thanks >5 DebiCates: Debi for starting this. I have biographies of the Brontës (where not many letters by Emily have survived but we have her juvenilia, poetry and one novel), and I have a few books by and about Emily Dickinson on my tbr, ie sitting sitting on my physical and digital bookshelf.

I’ve been reading and rereading these poems, and the more I read this to me Emily Brontë’s hope is described as timid but comes across as a considerate menace:

Like a false guard false watch keeping
Still in strife she whispered peace;
She would sing while I was weeping,
If I listened, she would cease.

This to me sounds like hope is toying with her, and then when she can use it abandons her “ne'er returned again!”, is this hopeful? Or is the poem just being brutality honest about the state of hope?

Emily Brontë who experienced death from a young age, having lost her mother when she was 3 and 2 other siters 4 years later; the little I know of her what comes across is that she is very strong-willed and strong-minded, so could Emily Brontë be saying she doesn’t need hope, she’s doing okay?

Here’s Emily Dickinson’s poem again, this time with and without dashes. I've tried to put it side by side in 2 columns to make it easier for comparison.

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    'Hope' is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson
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“Hope” is the thing with feathers -               Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul -                     That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words -             And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops - at all -                       And never stops at all,

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -           And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm -                 And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little Bird                That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm -                   That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -               I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest Sea -                  And on the strangest sea;
Yet - never - in Extremity,                    Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.                    It asked a crumb of me.

With dashes from https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42889/hope-is-the-thing-with-feathers-314
Without dashes from https://poets.org/poem/hope-thing-feathers-254

They definitely differ, for me the one on the left has more tension.

My initial impressions was that this poem is more positive than Emily Brontë's Hope. Now I'm not so sure.

>10 AnishaInkspill: Is it known whether Dickinson had anything to do with the dashes, either in handscript or typescript or?

>11 elenchus: from the books I have my understanding is that the dashes are a part of Emily Dickinson's poetic style.

Isn't it amazing how all those dashes make a difference, where I think it adds more layers to the poem's meaning.

>12 AnishaInkspill: I agree, Anisha. It is amazing. Those dashes are visually stimulating, adding a feeling of immediacy. Certainly they were a visionary approach. I like her actual poems so much better than the modified, traditionalized ones published in the first decades after her death.

>11 elenchus: If you'd like to see an example of her handwritten poems, written in pencil, Harvard has a large collection, like "A little bread--a crust--a crumb" https://viewer.lib.harvard.edu/viewer/URN-3:FHCL.HOUGH:8635957?canvasId=https%3A... (zoom in)

Here's that poem's text from
https://allpoetry.com/A-little-bread--a-crust--a-crumb

A little bread — a crust — a crumb —
A little trust — a demijohn —
Can keep the soul alive —
Not portly, mind! but breathing — warm —
Conscious — as old Napoleon,
The night before the Crown!

A modest lot — A fame petite —
A brief Campaign of sting and sweet
Is plenty! Is enough!
A Sailor's business is the shore!
A Soldier's — balls! Who asketh more,
Must seek the neighboring life!

Well, that "crumb" in "A little bread" poem adds another layer to its use in the "hope" poem, no?

And sidenote: by "balls" is meant ballroom dances, presumably, though with a nod to the pun on anatomy? The notes at the allpoetry.com site indicates "musket balls" but that doesn't make sense after mention of the Sailor's business being shore ....

Appreciate having the resource here to bring forth this vital contextual info, another reason I love this group.

>14 elenchus: Love your cross connection of "crumb", E! A crumb is enough, it seems, as she says, to keep a body warm. No small thing. And if you don't have even a crumb? Well, you can still have hope.

One of the many benefits of reading poetry, we can see into the hearts and minds of the most contemplative of us all.

I confess. I didn't have a clue what "balls" meant. I was fairly certain it didn't mean musket balls. But I was even more certain it didn't mean what it would mean if I used it in a poem today. :p

I, too, love this group. Thank you for being part of it.

>14 elenchus: balls in >13 DebiCates: - at a guess, I'm thinking weapons, musket ball didn't occur to me I was thinking canon ball, mention of 'Napolean', 'campaign'. 'soldier' --- Napolean, something to do with the French Revolution / revolution (line 6 'The night before the Crown'). So I thought maybe balls references this, also the next and last line with the word 'life', maybe implies balls has an opposite force - so death, which can be the impact of a weapon. This idea for me was further reinforced by the word 'Napolean', a part of history I don't fully understand and only know of them in passing of reading works by Jane Austen, Victor Hugo, etc.

This is just the way I read this, compared to "'Hope' is the thing with feathers", this poem did puzzle me more.

And your observation of the crumb is interesting, it's present in both poems does widen the scope of hope.