Posted by sleepygirl2 on February 19, 2012, at 12:00:28
In reply to Hope is a dangerous thing, posted by sleepygirl2 on February 13, 2012, at 17:54:48
http://www.online-literature.com/dickinson/827/
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 chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
poster:sleepygirl2
thread:1010160
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20120127/msgs/1010833.html