Few events in American literary history have been more curious than the sudden rise of Emily Dickinson into a posthumous fame only more accentuated by the utterly recluse character of her life and ...

One startling early verse almost didn’t make it into print. “Wild nights—Wild nights!” it cried. “Were I with thee / Wild nights should be / Our luxury!” The poet’s editor dreaded ...

Not long ago a distinguished critic, reviewing Father Tabb's poetry, remarked, 'At his most obvious affinity, Emily Dickinson, I can only glance. It seems to me that he contains in far finer form ...