Dead Hope
Christina Rossetti
1830 to 1894
Hope new born one pleasant morn
Died at even;
Hope dead lives nevermore,
No, not in heaven.
If his shroud were but a cloud
To weep itself away;
Or were he buried underground
To sprout some day!
But dead and gone is dead and gone
Vainly wept upon.
Nought we place above his face
To mark the spot,
But it shows a barren place
In our lot.
Christina Rossetti's Dead Hope
I am busy working to bring Christina Rossetti's "Dead Hope" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Christina Rossetti's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "Dead Hope" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.
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