Level 2 Version 2

"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.