|
"Hope" is the thing with feathers |
|
"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. -- Emily Dickinson |
|
READING / LITERATURE LITERATURE ON LINE |