H.O.P.E.

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.

~Emily Dickinson

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2 thoughts on “H.O.P.E.

  1. heather says:

    Did you know she’s this english majors’ absolute fav?

  2. Jill Barlow says:

    Hello, my name is Jill. You’re my person. Of course I did. 🙂

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