Epilogue - Marianne Faithfull

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