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    Seven Ages - Poem

    Uploaded by

    Sailesh Kumar
    All the world's a stage and people merely play roles throughout their lives. A man progresses through seven stages or ages from infancy to old age, starting as a crying baby, then a reluctant schoolboy, a lovesick lover, a soldier seeking glory, a wise judge, a aging pantaloon, and finally a second helpless childhood before oblivion.

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    © All Rights Reserved
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    Seven Ages - Poem

    Uploaded by

    Sailesh Kumar
    38 views8 pages
    All the world's a stage and people merely play roles throughout their lives. A man progresses through seven stages or ages from infancy to old age, starting as a crying baby, then a reluctant schoolboy, a lovesick lover, a soldier seeking glory, a wise judge, a aging pantaloon, and finally a second helpless childhood before oblivion.

    Original Description:

    This is a poem written by william shaekspear.

    Original Title

    Seven ages - poem

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    All the world's a stage and people merely play roles throughout their lives. A man progresses through seven stages or ages from infancy to old age, starting as a crying baby, then a reluctant schoolboy, a lovesick lover, a soldier seeking glory, a wise judge, a aging pantaloon, and finally a second helpless childhood before oblivion.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as docx, pdf, or txt
    38 views8 pages

    Seven Ages - Poem

    Uploaded by

    Sailesh Kumar
    All the world's a stage and people merely play roles throughout their lives. A man progresses through seven stages or ages from infancy to old age, starting as a crying baby, then a reluctant schoolboy, a lovesick lover, a soldier seeking glory, a wise judge, a aging pantaloon, and finally a second helpless childhood before oblivion.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as docx, pdf, or txt
    of 8

    All the worlds 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 nurses arms.
    Then the whining
    schoolboy, with his
    satchel
    And shining morning
    face, creeping like snail
    Unwillingly to school.
    And then the lover,
    Sighing like furnace,
    with a woeful 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 cannons
    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
    slippered 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

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