2005年11月9日15:15:25
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.
posted on 2005-11-09 15:15
瀟瀟雨 閱讀(184)
評論(0) 編輯 收藏 所屬分類:
日記