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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 silent harp there, wrung and snapped

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




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last updated 12 October 2010 - 3:52am
©29 April 2002 - 5:24pm — solasabah
16 May 2002 - 5:46am — Ernest Bevans (not verified)
Ernest Bevans's picture

Life is an endless dream of hope... Chuang Tzu once said he dreamt he was a butterfly. Suddenly, he awoke and found himself found that he was a man again not a butterfly.

The thought to himself, "Was I before a man who dreamt about being a butterfly, or am I now a butterfly who dreams about being a man?"

Is it worse to dream of hope or live a life hoping without dreams?

Thanks for sharing Christina Rossetti with us....