[00:16.42]Hope is the thing with feathers
[00:18.82]That perches in the soul,
[00:21.10]And sings the tune without the words,
[00:23.91]And never stops at all.
[00:26.64]The sweetest in the gale is heard;
[00:29.23]And sore must be the storm
[00:31.83]That could abash the little bird
[00:34.04]That kept so many warm.
[00:36.99]I've heard it in the chillest land,
[00:39.54]And on the strangest sea;
[00:42.03]Yet, never,in extremity,
[00:44.42]It asked a crumb of me.