Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty look, repeats his words, Remembers me of his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form William Shakespeare
All the world is a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and entrances; Each man in his time plays many parts. See image William Shakespeare
How far that little candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. See image William Shakespeare