If "Hope is the thing with feathers",

"That perches on the soul",

Then I hope it doesn't fly away,

Once I'm washed ashore.

And I hope it spreads its wings,

To shield me from the night,

And sings sweet melodies,

When I've lost all need to fight.

I hope it doesn't leave me,

When I feel creeping despair,

I shall hold it near to me,

Until my lungs can take no air.

And if I'm ever stuck

On an island all alone,

Hope will tell grand stories,

About how soon I'll be home.

If I was abandoned,

And never brought along Hope,

Long before the island kills,

My soul would be choked with a rope.

So Hope, do not fly away,

And leave me all alone,

For wherever I land,

If you're there, I am home.