woah is me to have seen what i seen see what i see

I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely.

It is not night when I do see your face.

All the world's a stage.

Let me be that I am and seek not to alter me.

O good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat but for promotion, And having that do choke their service up Even with the having. . . .

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger.