How many ages hence

Shall this our lofty scene be acted over

In states unborn and accents yet unknown!

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Julius Caesar. Act iii. Sc. 1.

All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players.

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,

Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.

And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel

And shining morning face, creeping like snail

Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,

Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad

Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,

Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard;

Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,

In fair round belly with good capon lined,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,

Full of wise saws and modern instances;

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;

His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide

For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion,

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

Oh, I have roamed o'er many lands,

And many friends I 've met;

Not one fair scene or kindly smile

Can this fond heart forget.

Thomas Haynes Bayly (1797-1839): Oh, steer my Bark to Erin's Isle.

Thus heavenly hope is all serene,

But earthly hope, how bright soe'er,

Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene,

As false and fleeting as 't is fair.

Reginald Heber (1783-1826): On Heavenly Hope and Earthly Hope.

Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things

To low ambition and the pride of kings.

Let us (since life can little more supply

Than just to look about us, and to die)

Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man;

A mighty maze! but not without a plan.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): Essay on Man. Epistle i. Line 1.

On a fair prospect some have looked,

And felt, as I have heard them say,

As if the moving time had been

A thing as steadfast as the scene

On which they gazed themselves away.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850): Peter Bell. Part i. Stanza 16.

He nothing common did, or mean,

Upon that memorable scene.

Andrew Marvell (1620-1678): Upon Cromwell's return from Ireland.

The scene was more beautiful far to the eye

Than if day in its pride had arrayed it.

Paul Moon James (1780-1854): The Beacon.

Now night descending, the proud scene was o'er,

But lived in Settle's numbers one day more.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): The Dunciad. Book i. Line 89.