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
Emily Dickinson
Felt I would like to share this with you from Alice Mason Artist facebook that I have discovered in my newsfeed you can find out more of Alice's beautiful artwork on this web link http://alice-mason.com/
