Heinrich Gogarten 1850-1911 Painter
Sunset over the Winter Forest
Hope is the thing with feathers —by Emily Dickinson
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.
One angel is happily playing music and the one in front looks ready for the weekend! Wishing you all a wonderful weekend!