Friday, 27 April 2018

Dead Poets Society #74 Emily Dickinson: Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

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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 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.

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