Poetry in Motion
from MacbethWilliam Shakespeare
Act 5. sc. 5
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this pretty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
William Shakespeare (1564-1616).
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