Selections from the Poetry of Christina Rossetti (A Song — The Dream)

A Song:

When I die, O dearest creature of mine,
do not sing your sad songs for me,
and plant no roses near my head,
nor shade me with the oak tree;
be yourself the grass above me,
with drizzle and refreshing drops of dew;
and if you will, remember me —
and if you will... forget!

I shall not see the shadows any more,
and I shall never feel the rain,
nor shall I hear the nightingale
singing in the choking of pain,
nor shall I dream through the mist
that will not rise and will not set.
So if you will, remember me —
and if you will, forget!!

The Dream:

The hope I dreamed of... was a dream —
it was a mere dream... and now I have risen,
worn with weariness, mute, grown old,
for a dream's sake!

I hung my flute upon a tree
beside the lake, where the branches mourn;
I hung my silent flute there,
for a dream's sake!

Lie still, lie still, O broken heart;
O my silent heart, lie still and break!
For life, and the world, and the depths of my soul
are changed, all of them,
for a dream's sake!