This is very midsummer madness

Why this is very midsummer madness.

Thus I die. Thus, thus, thus.
Now I am dead,
Now I am fled,
My soul is in the sky.
Tongue, lose thy light.
Moon take thy flight.
Now die, die, die, die.

Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities.

Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so;
And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.

Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream