"Hope" is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

hope-is-the-thing-with-feathers-


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 most chill land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.