midnight
Then the soul spoke merrily as he looked through the window . `` There is a mountain lifting sheer above London , part crystal and part myst . Thither the dreamers go when the sound of the traffic has fallen . At first they scarcely dream because of the roar of it , but before midnight it stops , and turns , and ebbs with all its wrecks . Then the dreamers arise and scale the shimmering mountain , and at its summit find the galleons of dream . Thence some sail East , some West , some into the Past and some into the Future , for the galleons sail over the years as well as over the spaces , but mostly they head for the Past and the olden harbours , for thither the sighs of men are mostly turned , and the dream-ships go before them , as the merchantmen before the continual trade-winds go down the African coast . I see the galleons even now raise anchor after anchor ; the stars flash by them ; they slip out of the night ; their prows go gleaming into the twilight of memory , and night soon lies far off , a black cloud hanging low , and faintly spangled with stars , like the harbour and shore of some low-lying land seen afar with its harbour lights . ''