Lyric Epilogue

Our revels now our ended,
These are actors, as I foretold you,
Were all spirits, and are melted into air,
Into thin air.

And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud capp d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself.

Yea, all which it inherit shall dissolve,
And like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.

We are such stuff as dreams are made of
And our little life is rounded
With a sleep.