Page 18 - @ccess3_Readers Book

Hope Is the Thing with Feathers
by Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul, TraCk 18
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 abash (v.): avergonzar
That could abash the little bird crumb (n.): migaja
gale (n.): vendaval
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Source: https://bit.ly/3eplUrL

16 Reader's Book