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- “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.
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