Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,

These are the famous opening lines of Dickinson’s poem, where the speaker introduces the extended metaphor that will develop throughout the rest of the poem. At the heart of this metaphor is the abstract concept of hope. The metaphor that the speaker goes on to establish likens this abstraction of hope to a bird. Yet in a strange twist that’s characteristic of Dickinson’s poetry, this isn’t an ordinary bird. Rather, it’s a quasi-metaphysical bird that “perches in the soul.” In this way, Dickinson introduces an image that is doubly figurative. Hope is a bird, but this bird is actually something closer to a person’s immaterial soul. Also strange is the plain rhetoric of these opening lines, which frame the entire poem as a straightforward definition: “hope is . . .”  Yet the oddness of this definition is immediately apparent in Dickinson’s use of the definite article in the first line. Hope isn’t a thing with feathers, but rather the thing with feathers.

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird

Lines 5–7 make up the first part of the second quatrain. Here, the speaker describes how the metaphorical bird of hope continues to sing its song even in adverse conditions, represented here by a “gale.” A gale is a particularly violent storm, typically characterized by fierce wind and torrential rain. These are conditions where we wouldn’t ordinarily expect to see a bird. Nor would we expect to hear its song over the screaming of the elements. And yet the speaker insists not only that the hope-bird’s song can still be heard, but also that this is when its song sounds “sweetest.” Clearly, this bird of hope is a hardy creature, undeterred by conditions that would ordinarily seem to inspire pessimism. As the speaker concludes, if not even a gale can discourage it, then “sore must be the storm / That could abash the little bird.” In other words, hope is a force that won’t easily waver.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet never in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Lines 9–12 comprise the entirety of the poem’s third quatrain. This stanza is notable for the fact that it opens with the one and only personal reference by the speaker. The speaker has had personal experience of adversity, which is represented through references to “the chillest land” and “the strangest sea.” The speaker asserts that even in these remote and alienating places, he or she has continued to hear the hope-bird’s song. And what’s more, the speaker has found that this same bird has never “asked a crumb of me” in return for the optimism it has provided. In other words, the speaker concludes the poem by emphasizing that hope isn’t something that has to be actively nourished. This could mean that the speaker is just a naturally-hopeful person. Alternatively, it could mean that optimism is free to anyone—something like a gift from the universe that’s already “perched” inside every person.