HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS...
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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”
“The Catbird sings a crooked song
In minors that are flat
And when he can’t control his voice
He mews just like a cat
Then nods his head and whisks his tail
And lets it go at that”
“The reason birds can fly and we can’t is simply because they have perfect faith,
for to have faith is to have wings”
“Within my garden rides a bird
Upon a single wheel-
Whose spokes a dizzy music make
As ‘twere a traveling mill-
He never stops, but slackens
Above the ripest rose-
Partakes without alighting
And praises as he goes,
Till every spice is tasted-
And then his fairy gig
Reels in remoter atmospheres-
And I rejoin my dog,
And he and I, perplex us
If positive ‘twer we-
Or bore the garden in the brain
This curiosity-
But he the best logician,
Refers my clumsy eye-
To just vibrating blossoms! An exquisite reply!”