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House Of Sensibilities
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Soliloquy
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Top 20
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Poems

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Latest update (05/06/2005)

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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

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Created on 11/04/2001
Updated on 05/06/2005