HOPE - Hope is a subtle glutton

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Hope is a subtle glutton;
He feeds upon the fair;
And yet, inspected closely,
What abstinence is there!

His is the halcyon table
That never seats but one,
And whatsoever is consumed
The same amounts remain.

More poems by Emily Dickinson

A word is dead / When it is said,

I had a guinea golden; / I lost it in the sand,

I took my power in my hand. / And went against the world;

Sleep is supposed to be, / By souls of sanity,