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  • Date :
  • 6/4/2011

"Hope" is the thing with feathers

hope

Emily Dickinson

 

"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.


Other Links:

Dulce et Decorum Est

Faith is a fine invention

Fire and Ice

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