What a Piece of Work Is Man

 

What a piece of work is manHow noble in reasonHow infinite in facultiesIn form and moving how express and admirableIn action how like an angelIn apprehension how like a godThe beauty of the worldThe paragon of animalsI have of lateBut wherefore I know not, lost all my mirthThis goodly frameThe earth seems to me a sterile promontoryThis most excellent canopyThe air look youThis brave o'erhanging firmamentThis majestical roofFretted with golden fireWhy it appears no other thing to meThan a foul and pestilent congregationOf vapors.from the musical Hair--for some reason it's been running through my thoughts