Old but classic
May. 3rd, 2003 12:25 pmbecause it's a pretty one.
HOPE IS A THING WITH FEATHERS
Author: Emily Dickinson
Hope is a thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings a tune without 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 keeps so many warm.
I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea
Yet, never, in extremity
It ask a crumb of me.
HOPE IS A THING WITH FEATHERS
Author: Emily Dickinson
Hope is a thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings a tune without 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 keeps so many warm.
I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea
Yet, never, in extremity
It ask a crumb of me.
Re: Poem
Date: 2003-05-03 06:31 pm (UTC)Well, they both are.