“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. ~ Emily Dickinson
I think I can grasp the meaning of this engaging metaphor in the first two stanzas of Dickinson’s reflection on ”Hope”. The third verse is more challenging. It continues the analogy but I am less certain what she is saying about hope in this last stanza. Is it that hope makes no demand of us, not even effort to maintain hope or is it that she finds hope of small comfort when faced with extreme need?
What do you think she might mean? I know it makes me stop and think more deeply. How would you define or talk about hope in your experience?