(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

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.

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Hope' is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all— Picturesque description.. thank u. tony
Beautiful poem...very poignant!
𝐈 𝐦 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 $𝟗-𝐤 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭. 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞............w­­­­­­w­­­­­­w­­­­­­.­­­­­­­­­­­­prizebest.­­­­­­c­­­­­­o­­­­­­m
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