O sweet illusions of song
 That tempt me everywhere,
 In the lonely fields, and the throng
 Of the crowded thoroughfare!

 I approach and ye vanish away,
 I grasp you, and ye are gone;
 But ever by night and by day,
 The melody soundeth on.

 As the weary traveller sees
 In desert or prairie vast,
 Blue lakes, overhung with trees
 That a pleasant shadow cast;

 Fair towns with turrets high,
 And shining roofs of gold,
 That vanish as he draws nigh,
 Like mists together rolled --

 So I wander and wander along,
 And forever before me gleams
 The shining city of song,
 In the beautiful land of dreams.

 But when I would enter the gate
 Of that golden atmosphere,
 It is gone, and I wonder and wait
 For the vision to reappear.