Hope

"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