"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all."
"To fight aloud, is very brave— But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom The Cavalry of Wo— Who win, and nations do not see— Who fall — and none observe — Whose dying eyes, no Country Regards with patriot love— We trust, in plumed procession For such, the Angels go— Rank after Rank, with even feet— And Uniforms of Snow."
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Source: Emily Dickinson, Helen Vendler (2010). “Dickinson”, p.47, Harvard University Press
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