Emily did not care about fame and success. She wrote 1800 poems and less than a dozen were published in her lifetime! As a child she hid at the top of the stairs when visitors came and listened. Her adult life was spent alone as a recluse working in her garden and writing poetry like a madwoman. Later she spent most of her time in bed (I am so in awe of her!)
Here’s a line from her poem, Compensation:
For each ecstatic instant
We must an anguish pay
In keen and quivering ratio
To the ecstasy.
So even though it’s two days belated, it’s never too late to read your favorite Emily poems. Or, for a little excitement, try Billy Collins reading his poem "Taking Off Emily Dickinson's Clothes."