"Hope" is the thing with feathers -
  That perches in the soul -
  And sings the tune without the words -
(4) And never stops - at all

  And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
  And sore must be the storm -
  That could abash the little Bird
(8) That kept so many warm

  I've heard it in the chilliest land -
  And on the strangest Sea -
  Yet - never - in Extremity,
(12) It asked a crumb - of Me.