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afixer · 03-04-2010, 06:53 PM

Hope
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

03-04-2010, 06:53 PM	#960
afixer Member How Do You Identify?: human Preferred Pronoun?: ma'am Relationship Status: adrift in my head Join Date: Jan 2010 Location: in and out of the woods Posts: 989 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 491 Thanked 1,507 Times in 659 Posts Rep Power: 8660555	Hope 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