Hopeby Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathersThat 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 stormThat could abash the little birdThat kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chilliest landAnd on the strangest sea;Yet, never, in extremity,It asked a crumb of me.
2011年的最后一个回帖,送给最敬佩的雷锋一号。实在太困,睁不开眼了。其他的好东西只好等明年了 ~ ~ ~
我们等着你来一块儿跑比赛!最后送上最最美好的祝愿!
Hope
by Emily Dickinson
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 chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
2011年的最后一个回帖,送给最敬佩的雷锋一号。实在太困,睁不开眼了。其他的好东西只好等明年了 ~ ~ ~
我们等着你来一块儿跑比赛!最后送上最最美好的祝愿!