Tuesday, May 04, 2010
"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


 
posted by gerbmom at 9:53 AM | Permalink |


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