Sunday, December 12, 2010

Hope is the Thing With Feathers :: Trailer Bride



Yesterday was poet Emily Dickinson's birthday

Hope by Emily Dickinson

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.

The musical saw used in this song is the perfect instrument, perfectly played.
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