Fancies Are But Streams

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.