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...THE MAIZE by WILLIAM WHITEMAN FOSDICK ON THE DEATHS OF THOMAS CARLYLE AND GEORGE ELIOT by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE SUPPLIANTS: PRAYER FOR DELIVERANCE. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS TRAGIC FRAGMENT by ROBERT BURNS THE PINE TREE by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON TO MY LORD VERULAM by GEORGE HERBERT CLARKE GHOSTS OF CONQUEST by ALBERT EDWARD CLEMENTS AN APOLOGY FOR NOT SHOWING HER WHAT I HAD WROTE by WILLIAM COWPER |