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 (5)

A wonderful poem i heard voice ite so great wishing well for grow more
Light, soothing and delightful.
Elsewhere on this website, the same poem is attributed to Robert Louis Stevenson: http: //www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-english-breeze/ Which is it?
.....beautiful and imaginative
Very nice poem. Very light and delightful.