Goblin Market, and other poems, by Christina Rossetti

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 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.