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 (11)

every website changes the words what the is this the literature book of gr 7 says there was an old man with a light who was dressed in a garment of white
It's a good poem and it rhymes good. In my class everbody wrote the same
Buzz and brute... two angles of views...beautiful :)
Excellent Limerick! Enjoyed reading it. Great humour!
Outstanding limerick displaying a fantastic imagery and sense of humor. Thanks for sharing it here.
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