Thursday, September 29, 2005
The Baseless Fabric of This Vision
OUR revels are now 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 the 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.
From The Tempest
I've had this bit of The Bard poking around in my head for the past week. Seems a good post idea for a blogger dealing with a fussy newborn tonight!