"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all."
"Not one of all the purple host Who took the flag to-day Can tell the definition So clear of victory, As he, defeated, dying, On whose forbidden ear The distant strains of triumph Break agonized and clear."
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Source: Emily Dickinson (2012). “The Selected Poems of Emily Dickinson”, p.24, Modern Library
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