Amechanical chaos of casual brute enemy on which we stupidly impose our hopes and fears

The overwhelming majority of the peoples and nations of the world today want to live in peace

Pls excerpted from "hope is the thing with feathers" by emily dickinson [2] and sweetest—in the gale—is heard— and sore must be the storm— that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm— [3] i've heard it in the chillest land— and on the strangest sea— yet, never, in extremity, it asked a crumb—of me. in the last stanza, the author writes that the little bird “never … asked a crumb of me.” which type of figurative language is evident in these lines? a. onomatopoeia b. alliteration c. assonance d. personification

“to build a fire” what does the man realize as he’s trying to light the matches? what difficulty occurs when the man finally lights all of his matches at once?