two poems

A Clear Midnight

by Walt Whitman

This is thy hour O soul, thy free flight into the wordless

away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done

 Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazin, pondering the themes thee lovest best

Night, sleep, death and the stars 

---

All the world’s a stage

by William Shakespeare

from As You Like It, 2/7

All the world’s a stage

And all the men and women merely players

They have their exits and their entrances

A man in his time plays many parts

His acts being seven ages; At first the infant

Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms

The a whining school-boy, with his satchel

And shining moning face, creeping like snail

Unwillingly to school; and then the lover

Sighing like furnace, with his woeful ballad

Made to his mistress’s 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; 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 a 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 into childish tremble, 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. 

以上都是背诵，如有错误很正常