Hope is the thing with feathers <br />That perches in the soul, <br />And sings the tune without the words, <br />And never stops at all, <br /> <br />And sweetest in the gale is heard; <br />And sore must be the storm <br />That could abash the little bird <br />That kept so many warm. <br /> <br />I've heard it in the chillest land, <br />And on the strangest sea; <br />Yet, never, in extremity, <br />It asked a crumb of me.<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hope-is-the-thing-with-feathers-2/
