Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Fata Morgana

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 an 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. 

1. Burial of the Minnisink
2. It Is Not Always May
3. The Rainy Day
4. The Skeleton in Armor
5. Blind Bartimeus

Christina Rossetti Fata Morgana ("A blue-eyed phantom far before")

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