Fancies are but streams
Of vain pleasure:
They who by their dreams
True joys measure
Feasting, starve; laughing, weep;
Playing, smart. Whilst in sleep
Fools with shadows smiling,
Wake and find
Hopes like wind,
Idle hopes beguiling.
Thoughts fly away, Time hath past 'em;
Wake now, awake, see and taste 'em.