Main Content
"Hope" is the thing with feathers
"Hope" is the thing with feathers
Poetry

“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.

About the Author

For more information contact worshipweb@uua.org.

Like, Share, Print, or Bookmark