Hope Is the Thing with Feathers
by Emily Dickinson (1830–1886)
Reads in about 1 minute12 linesNon-religious
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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 this text
- Poet
- Emily Dickinson, 1830–1886
- Printing used
- Poems: Second Series (1891), as “Hope”
- First published
- 1891
- Public domain
- This printing 1891, before 1931
- Often chosen
- for mom, for a woman, non-religious, short