Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Hope is the thing with feathers ..



By: Emily Dickinson

"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.

2 comments:

  1. I guess HOPE is all we are left with ! :-|

    Wonderful poem!

    Care,
    Neer

    ReplyDelete
  2. yeah.Its one of my favourites too :)

    ReplyDelete