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“Hope” is the thing with feathers

by Emily Dickinson — the poem does not scroll away while you write about it.

The poem

“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 BirdThat 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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