Sunday, December 1, 2013

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 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 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.

By: Christina Rossetti

No comments:

Post a Comment