“Hope is the thing with feathers” by 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 a 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.
This poem was selected by Laura H. (Readers’ Services)
