DOUBT
Helen Hunt  Jackson

They bade me cast the thing away,
They pointed to my hands all bleeding,
They listened not to all my pleading;
 The thing I meant I could not say;
 I knew that I should rue the day
 If once I cast that thing away.

I grasped it firm, and bore the pain;
The thorny husks I stripped and scattered;
If I could reach its heart, what mattered
If other men saw not my gain,
Or even if I should be slain?
I knew the risks; I chose the pain.

O, had I cast that thing away,
I had not found what most I cherish,
A faith without which I should perish,--
The faith which, like a kernel, lay
Hid in the husks which on that day
My instinct would not throw away!
 

"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without words
And never stops at all."

Emily Dickinson
 

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Art:
    "Hope"
    by Sir Edward Burnes-Jones
    Painted 1896

Music:
    The Promise
    Michael Nyman