Then on the River I saw the dream-built ship of the god Yoharneth-Lahai,
whose great prow lifted grey into the air above the River of Silence.

Her timbers were olden dreams dreamed long ago, and poets' fancies
made her tall, straight masts, and her rigging was wrought out of
the people's hopes.

Upon her deck were rowers with dream-made oars, and the rowers
were the people of men's fancies, and princes of old story and
people who had died, and people who had never been.

These swung forward and swung back to row Yoharneth-Lahai through
the Worlds with never a sound of rowing. For ever on every wind
float up to Pegana the hopes and the fancies of the people which
have no home in the Worlds, and there Yoharneth-Lahai weaves them
into dreams, to take them to the people again.

And every night in his dream-built ship Yoharneth-Lahai setteth
forth, with all his dreams on board, to take again their old hopes
back to the people and all forgotten fancies.

But ere the day comes back to her own again, and all the
conquering armies of the dawn hurl their red lances in the face of
the night, Yoharneth-Lahai leaves the sleeping Worlds, and rows
back up the River of Silence, that flows from Pegana into the Sea
of Silence that lies beyond the Worlds.

And the name of the River is Imrana the River of Silence. All they
that be weary of the sound of cities and very tired of clamour