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Saturday, July 21, 2012

Poemaday #3

I felt like I wanted to memorize an uplifting poem yesterday, due to all the tragedy in our country, so I chose the most hopeful of poems:


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.

-Emily Dickinson

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