"Hope" is the thing
with feathers -
That perches
in the soul -
And sings the tune
without the words -
And never stops
- at all -

I've heard it in the
chillest land -
And on the
strangest Sea -
Yet - never -
in Extremity,
It asked a crumb
- of me.

And sweetest
- in the Gale -
is heard -
And sore must be
the storm -
That could abash
the little Bird
That kept
so many warm -