HUMAN LIFE. Reason thus with life, If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep a breath thou art, (Servile to all the skiey influences,) That do this habitation, where thou keep'st, Yet run'st toward him still: thou art by no means valiant; Of a poor worm; thy best of rest is sleep, Forending thee no sooner: thou hast nor youth, nor age; Dreaming on both! for all thy blessed youth Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms Of palsied eld; and when thou'rt old, and rich. Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, To make thy riches pleasant. All the world's a stage, What's yet in this And all the men and women merely players: Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then, the soldier, Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the justice ; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts 51 MERCY. 'The quality of mercy is not strained; Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, MOONLIGHT. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims: Such harmony is in immortal souls ; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. |