Hope

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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 –

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.

~ Emily Dickinson