Hope is the Thing with Feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops at all

No it never stops at all

And sweetest in the gale is heard

And so it must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm

Yet it keeps so many warm

I've heard it in the chillest land

And on the strangest sea

But never in extremity

It asked a crumb of me

And never asked a single crumb

No matter where I be

It sings its song for everyone

It sings its song for me

And sweetest in the gale is heard

And so it must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm

Oh that kept so many warm

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul