I am afraid to own a Body — I am afraid to own a Soul — - 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 chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

When the Best is gone - I know that other things are not of consequence - The Heart wants what it wants - or else it does not care -

God preaches, a noted Clergyman —
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last—
I'm going, all along.