First lets his fingers wander as they list,

And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay:

Then, as the touch of his loved instrument

Gives hope and fervor, nearer draws his theme,

First guessed by faint auroral flushes sent

Along the wavering vista of his dream.

The Vision of Sir Launfal. Lowell.

It is but a legend, I know,—

A fable, a phantom, a show,