Mirage
1862
The hope I dreamed of was a dream,Was but a dream; and now I wakeExceeding 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 snaptFor 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 changedFor a dream's sake.