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.

by Emily Dickinson

Comments (14)

Wow, such a passionate poem I ever read...❤️👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻10++++++
You have a noble poetic heart-beautiful poem about poetry and love.
A poem to think and a poem to understand its way of life..... its contents reach.. it is ancient telepathy and that still works toady and tranlates lovely lifein to words.. very nice thoughts
dripping with love good write -10 anjali
Your poems are in hearts of readers and into me I can feel it. Thanks for such submissive poem, an attribute of a True Poet Ten++ Ms. Nivedita UK Invite you to read and comment: LINGERIE- IG [new post.] Enigmatic Navel or other poems Niv
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