"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all."
"He ate and drank the precious Words, his Spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, nor that his frame was Dust."
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Source: c.1883 Complete Poems, no.1587 (first published 1890).
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"I am out with lanterns, looking for myself."
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