Of the Four Ages of Man
Lo, now four other act upon the stage,
Childhood and Youth, the Many and Old age:
The first son unto phlegm, grandchild to water,
Unstable, supple, cold and moist’s his nature
The second, frolic, claims his pedigree
From blood and air, for hot and moist is he.
The third of fire and choler is compos’d,
Vindicative and quarrelsome dispos’d.
The last of earth and heavy melancholy,
Solid, hating all lightness and all folly.
Childhood was cloth’d in white and green to show
His spring was intermixed with some snow:
Upon his head nature a garland set
Of Primrose, Daisy and the Violet.
Such cold mean flowers the spring puts forth betime,
Before the sun hath thoroughly heat the clime.
His hobby striding did not ride but run,
And in his hand an hour-glass new begun,
In danger every moment of a fall,
And when ‘t is broke then ends his life and all:
But
Then may he live out threescore years or past.
Next Youth came up in gorgeous attire
(As that fond age doth most of all desire),
His suit of crimson and his scarf of green,
His pride in’s countenance was quickly seen;
Garland of roses, pinks and gillyflowers
Seemed on’s head to grow bedew’d with showers.
His face as fresh as is Aurora fair,
When blushing she first ‘gins to light the air.
No wooden horse, but one of mettle tried,
He seems to fly or swim, and not to ride.
Then prancing on the stage, about he wheels,
But as he went death waited at his heels,
The next came up in a much graver sort,
As one that cared for a good report,
His sword by’s side, and choler in his eyes,
But neither us’d as yet, for he was wise;
Of Autumn’s fruits a basket on his arm,
His golden god in’s purse, which was his charm.
And last of all to act upon this stage
Leaning upon his staff came up Old Age,
Under his arm a sheaf of wheat he bore,
An harvest of the best, what needs he more?
In’s other hand a glass ev’n almost run,
Thus writ about: “This out, then am I done.”
Related poetry:
- The Four Ages of Man 1.1 Lo now! four other acts upon the stage, 1.2 Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age. 1.3 The first: son unto Phlegm, grand-child to water, 1.4 Unstable, supple, moist, and cold’s his Nature. 1.5 The second: frolic claims his pedigree; 1.6 From blood and air, for hot and moist is he. 1.7 The third […]...
- Ages and Ages, Returning at Intervals AGES and ages, returning at intervals, Undestroy’d, wandering immortal, Lusty, phallic, with the potent original loins, perfectly sweet, I, chanter of Adamic songs, Through the new garden, the West, the great cities calling, Deliriate, thus prelude what is generated, offering these, offering myself, Bathing myself, bathing my songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins....
- The Seven Ages of Wise Parliament’s a stage, And all the Politicians merely players! They have their exits and entrances, And Wise doth in his time play many parts, His acts being seven changes. First the Runner, With spiked shoe he spurns the cinder track, And just for once runs straight. The next the Student, Burning the midnight oil with […]...
- I Love The Naked Ages Long Ago I love the naked ages long ago When statues were gilded by Apollo, When men and women of agility Could play without lies and anxiety, And the sky lovingly caressed their spines, As it exercised its noble machine. Fertile Cybele, mother of nature, then, Would not place on her daughters a burden, But, she-wolf sharing […]...
- Recorders Ages Hence RECORDERS ages hence! Come, I will take you down underneath this impassive exterior-I will tell you what to say of me; Publish my name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover, The friend, the lover’s portrait, of whom his friend, his lover, was fondest, Who was not proud of his songs, […]...
- Through The Metodja To Abd-El-Kadr 1842 I As I ride, as I ride, With a full heart for my guide, So its tide rocks my side, As I ride, as I ride, That, as I were double-eyed, He, in whom our Tribes confide, Is descried, ways untried As I ride, as I ride. II As I ride, as I ride […]...
- Riders in the Stand There’s some that ride the Robbo style, and bump at every stride; While others sit a long way back, to get a longer ride. There’s some that ride as sailors do, with legs, and arms, and teeth; And some that ride the horse’s neck, and some ride underneath. But all the finest horsemen out the […]...
- The Four Ages Of The World The goblet is sparkling with purpled-tinged wine, Bright glistens the eye of each guest, When into the hall comes the Minstrel divine, To the good he now brings what is best; For when from Elysium is absent the lyre, No joy can the banquet of nectar inspire. He is blessed by the gods, with an […]...
- Garland for Queens, may be Garland for Queens, may be Laurels for rare degree Of soul or sword. Ah but remembering me Ah but remembering thee Nature in chivalry Nature in charity Nature in equity This Rose ordained!...
- Middle-Ages I heard a clash, and a cry, And a horseman fleeing the wood. The moon hid in a cloud. Deep in shadow I stood. ВЂUgly work! ’ thought I, Holding my breath. ВЂMen must be cruel and proud, ВЂJousting for death’. With gusty glimmering shone The moon; and the wind blew colder. A man went […]...
- Russell Kincaid In the last spring I ever knew, In those last days, I sat in the forsaken orchard Where beyond fields of greenery shimmered The hills at Miller’s Ford; Just to muse on the apple tree With its ruined trunk and blasted branches, And shoots of green whose delicate blossoms Were sprinkled over the skeleton tangle, […]...
- The Old Australian Ways The London lights are far abeam Behind a bank of cloud, Along the shore the gaslights gleam, The gale is piping loud; And down the Channel, groping blind, We drive her through the haze Towards the land we left behind The good old land of ‘never mind’, And old Australian ways. The narrow ways of […]...
- Twenty-Pound Stone It nests in the hollow of my pelvis, I carry it with both hands, as if offering my stomach, as if it were pulling me forward. At night the sun leaks from it, it turns cold, I sleep with it beside my head, I breath for it. Sometimes I dream of hammers. I am hammering […]...
- Nine Little Goblins THEY all climbed up on a high board-fence – Nine little Goblins, with green-glass eyes – Nine little Goblins that had no sense, And couldn’t tell coppers from cold mince pies; And they all climbed up on the fence, and sat – And I asked them what they were staring at. And the first one […]...
- Letters From A Man In Solitary 1 I carved your name on my watchband With my fingernail. Where I am, you know, I don’t have a pearl-handled jackknife (they won’t give me anything sharp) or a plane tree with its head in the clouds. Trees may grow in the yard, But I’m not allowed to see the sky overhead… How many […]...
- Nurses Song (Experience) When the voices of children. are heard on the green And whisprings are in the dale: The days of my youth rise fresh in my mind, My face turns green and pale. Then come home my children. the sun is gone down And the dews of night arise Your spring & your day. are wasted […]...
- Memory Brightly the sun of summer shone, Green fields and waving woods upon, And soft winds wandered by; Above, a sky of purest blue, Around, bright flowers of loveliest hue, Allured the gazer’s eye. But what were all these charms to me, When one sweet breath of memory Came gently wafting by? I closed my eyes […]...
- Bermudas Where the remote Bermudas ride In th’ Oceans bosome unespy’d, From a small Boat, that row’d along, The listning Winds receiv’d this Song. What should we do but sing his Praise That led us through the watry Maze, Unto an Isle so long unknown, And yet far kinder than our own? Where he the huge […]...
- Nursery Rhyme For A Twenty-First Birthday You cannot see the walls that divide your hand From his or hers or mine when you think you touch it. You cannot see the walls because they are glass, And glass is nothing until you try to pass it. Beat on it if you like, but not too hard, For glass will break you […]...
- The Force That Through The Green Fuse Drives The Flower The force that through the green fuse drives the flower Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees Is my destroyer. And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose My youth is bent by the same wintry fever. The force that drives the water through the rocks Drives my red blood; that […]...
- Sir Giles' War-Song Ho! is there any will ride with me, Sir Giles, le bon des barrières? The clink of arms is good to hear, The flap of pennons fair to see; Ho! is there any will ride with me, Sir Giles, le bon des barrières? The leopards and lilies are fair to see; “St. George Guienne” right […]...
- WITH A PAINTED RIBBON LITTLE leaves and flow’rets too, Scatter we with gentle hand, Kind young spring-gods to the view, Sporting on an airy band. Zephyr, bear it on the wing, Twine it round my loved one’s dress; To her glass then let her spring, Full of eager joyousness. Roses round her let her see, She herself a youthful […]...
- Who is it seeks my Pillow Nights Who is it seeks my Pillow Nights With plain inspecting face “Did you” or “Did you not,” to ask ‘Tis “Conscience” Childhood’s Nurse With Martial Hand she strokes the Hair Upon my wincing Head “All” Rogues “shall have their part in” what The Phosphorous of God...
- Psalm 71 part 3 v.17-21 C. M. The aged Christian’s prayer and song. God of my childhood and my youth, The guide of all my days, I have declared thy heav’nly truth, And told thy wondrous ways. Wilt thou forsake my hoary hairs, And leave my fainting heart? Who shall sustain my sinking years, If God my strength depart? […]...
- Alone From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were; I have not seen As others saw; I could not bring My passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken My sorrow; I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone; And all I loved, I loved […]...
- The Question to Lisetta WHAT nymph should I admire or trust, But Chloe beauteous, Chloe just? What nymph should I desire to see, But her who leaves the plain for me? To whom should I compose the lay, But her who listens when I play? To whom in song repeat my cares, But her who in my sorrow shares? […]...
- Love and Friendship Love is like the wild rose-briar, Friendship like the holly-tree The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms But which will bloom most contantly? The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring, Its summer blossoms scent the air; Yet wait till winter comes again And who wil call the wild-briar fair? Then scorn the silly […]...
- Ode Written On The First Of December Tho’ now no more the musing ear Delights to listen to the breeze That lingers o’er the green wood shade, I love thee Winter! well. Sweet are the harmonies of Spring, Sweet is the summer’s evening gale, Pleasant the autumnal winds that shake The many-colour’d grove. And pleasant to the sober’d soul The silence of […]...
- Days Too Short When primroses are out in Spring, And small, blue violets come between; When merry birds sing on boughs green, And rills, as soon as born, must sing; When butterflies will make side-leaps, As though escaped from Nature’s hand Ere perfect quite; and bees will stand Upon their heads in fragrant deeps; When small clouds are […]...
- Birch Tree The birch tree in winter Leaning over the secret pool Is Narcissus in love With the slight white branches, The slim trunk, In the dark glass; But, Spring coming on, Is afraid, And scarfs the white limbs In green....
- On A Political Prisoner She that but little patience knew, From childhood on, had now so much A grey gull lost its fear and flew Down to her cell and there alit, And there endured her fingers’ touch And from her fingers ate its bit. Did she in touching that lone wing Recall the years before her mind Became […]...
- You Out of nothing there comes a time called childhood, which Is simply a path leading through an archway called Adolescence. A small town there, past the arch called youth. Soon, down the road, where one almost misses the life Lived beyond the flower, is a small shack labeled, you. And it is here the future […]...
- Alone In The Woods Alone in the woods I felt The bitter hostility of the sky and the trees Nature has taught her creatures to hate Man that fusses and fumes Unquiet man As the sap rises in the trees As the sap paints the trees a violent green So rises the wrath of Nature’s creatures At man So […]...
- Inscription for the Ceiling of a Bedroom Daily dawns another day; I must up, to make my way. Though I dress and drink and eat, Move my fingers and my feet, Learn a little, here and there, Weep and laugh and sweat and swear, Hear a song, or watch a stage, Leave some words upon a page, Claim a foe, or hail […]...
- The Great Recall I’ve wearied of so many things Adored in youthful days; Music no more my spirit wings, E’en when Master play. For stage and screen I have no heart, Great paintings leave me cold; Alas! I’ve lost the love of Art That raptured me of old. Only my love of books is left, Yet that begins […]...
- A Spring Piece Left In The Middle Taut, thick fingers punch The teeth of my typewriter. Three words are down on paper in capitals: SPRING SPRING SPRING… And me poet, proofreader, The man who’s forced to read Two thousand bad lines every day for two liras Why, since spring has come, am I still sitting here like a ragged black chair? My […]...
- Sonnet 15: When I consider every thing that grows When I consider every thing that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment. That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows Whereon the stars in secret influence comment. When I perceive that men as plants increase, Cheerèd and checked even by the self-same sky, Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease, And wear […]...
- Glass Words of a poem should be glass But glass so simple-subtle its shape Is nothing but the shape of what it holds. A glass spun for itself is empty, Brittle, at best Venetian trinket. Embossed glass hides the poem of its absence. Words should be looked through, should be windows. The best word were invisible. […]...
- Sonnet XV When I consider every thing that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment, That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows Whereon the stars in secret influence comment; When I perceive that men as plants increase, Cheered and cheque’d even by the self-same sky, Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease, And wear […]...
- Sonnet XV: When I consider everything that grows When I consider everything that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment, That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows Whereon the stars in secret influence comment; When I perceive that men as plants increase, Cheered and check’d even by the selfsame sky, Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease, And wear their […]...