Book I, 6: On the life and death of Man

The World's a Theater; The Earth, a Stage
Plac'd in the midst; wheron both Prince & Page,
Both rich and poore; foole, wiseman; base, and high;
All act their Parts in Lifes short Tragedy:
Our Life's a Tragedy: Those secret Roomes
Wherein we tyre us, are our Mothers Wombes;
The Musicke ush'ring in the Play, is Mirth
To see a Manchild brought upon the Earth:
That fainting gaspe of Breath which first we vent
Is a Dumb-Shew, presents the Argumnt:
Our new-born Cries that new-born Griefes bewray,
Is the sad Prologue of th'ensuing Play:
False hopes, true feares, vaine ioyes, and fierce distracts
Are like the Musicke that divides the Acts:
Time holds the Glasse, and when the hower's run,
Death strikes the Epilogue; and the Play is done.