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.