“Hope” Is the Thing with Feathers
The source
“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.
Commentary
Dr. Ruxandra RouxHead of Literary Research & Development
Emily Dickinson, 1861. Fascicle 13, poem 254 in Johnson's numbering, 314 in Franklin's. One metaphor, held for twelve lines: hope is a small bird that moved in without asking.
Hope is not something you produce. It is already there, perched in the soul, and it “sings the tune without the words” and never stops, not even in a storm. That line names the poem's own method: nine of its twelve lines end in a dash, a breath that keeps almost arriving. The quiet turn comes last. In the chillest land and on the strangest sea, hope never “asked a crumb of me”. It costs the host nothing. Depending on the day, that is the most comforting or the most damning reading in the poem.
Songs
The song made from “Hope” Is the Thing with Feathers.


