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Poem	"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.
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