Harold Bloom's "Last Poems" anthology

Harold Bloom chose the verses below for Emily Dickinson in his anthology Til I End My Song: A Gathering of Last Poems. "In conceptual scope, originality, and profundity Dickinson surpasses any other literary mind since William Shakespeare's," he asserts.

Emily Dickinson Museum

The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
  The maddest noise that grows,—
The birds, they make it in the spring,
  At night’s delicious close.

Between the March and April line—
  That magical frontier
Beyond which summer hesitates,
  Almost too heavenly near.

It makes us think of all the dead
  That sauntered with us here,
By separation’s sorcery
  Made cruelly more dear.

It makes us think of what we had,
  And what we now deplore.
We almost wish those siren throats
  Would go and sing no more.

An ear can break a human heart
  As quickly as a spear,
We wish the ear had not a heart
  So dangerously near. [1789]

Further reading: Lives Like Loaded Guns: Emily Dickinson and Her Family's Feuds.