hope springs eterenal
Early Morning Open
Sat, May 31, 2008 at 3:28:55 am PST
Hope is the thing with feathersThat 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 stormThat could abash the little birdThat kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chilliest landAnd on the strangest sea;Yet, never, in extremity,It asked a crumb of me.
— Emily Dickinson
4
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Sat, May 31, 2008 at 3:28:55 am PST
Hope is the thing with feathersThat 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 stormThat could abash the little birdThat kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chilliest landAnd on the strangest sea;Yet, never, in extremity,It asked a crumb of me.
— Emily Dickinson
4
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Tags: LGF, Open Thread
Link address: Link title: Description: Remaining: Loading...
posted by Glenn Rye | 9:23 AM
1 Comments:
You have been busy posting all types of clever and interesting "stuff" to your Blog, so I have no choice but to start making commnets. Many comments! I'll start with this one.
As usual, the poems are always timely and appropriate. You are indeed gifted, oh wry one.
Bernie
Bernie
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