Our revels now are ended. These our 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-capped 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 on; and our little life Is rounded with sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY GARDEN by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN CHOEPHOROI: ORESTES GOES MAD by AESCHYLUS THIRD REUNION POEM by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THANKSGIVING by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE ENVOI by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB PRESENTIMENT by CHARLOTTE BRONTE THE REPLY OF SOCRATES, CONCERNING THE WRITINGS OF HERACLITUS by JOHN BYROM |