Friday, 13 January 2012

Mirage


The hope I dreamed of was a dream,
Was but a dream; and now I wake
Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old,
For a dream's sake.

I hang my harp upon a tree,
A weeping willow in a lake;
I hang my silenced harp there, wrung and snapt
For a dream's sake.

Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart;
My silent heart, lie still and break:
Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed
For a dream's sake.


Christina Rossetti

2 comments:

YE OLDE JARRA SCRIBE said...

Great Poem and sentiment!

Michael.

Clerk said...

It is indeed! Thanks for commenting.