Rob Pare
A
thread 1/3
“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.
05:50 AM - Apr 17, 2024
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Rob Pare
A
thread 2/3
I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
05:50 AM - Apr 17, 2024
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Rob Pare
A
thread 3/3
~Emily Dickinson
05:50 AM - Apr 17, 2024
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