No ethereal balm as dreams of big ’19 exports getting tattered

摘要

The poet Alexander Pope insisted “Hope springs eternal in the human breast…” but poets insist all kinds of things. Emily Dickenson called hope “the thing with feathers,” which is a bit less odd if you read the entire, quite brilliant poem. John Keats wrote – “Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!” Let’s face it – people don’t talk or write like that much anymore.