Hope Is The Thing With Feathers Poem by Emily Dickinson
Hope Is The Thing With Feathers
'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.
It is said that intellegent people speak words that are simple, well understood, and a clean thought....
I LOVE HER POEM 'I FELT A FUNERAL IN MY BRAIN' AND ''I FELT A CLEAVAGE IN MY MIND' MUCH.
I like the words of this poem and want to understand its meaning.
The first stanza is not just the prelude but the core of this great poem!
I love it. I don't know how to explain it. Mine is nowhere near as good as hers but if you want to see it please look at it and tell me what you think.
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9/26/2023 4:14:28 PM # 1.0.0.1113
a most beautiful poem Emily..thank you.. :)