What A Piece Of Work Is Man

What a piece of work is man

How noble in reason

How infinite in faculties

In form and moving how express and admirable

In action how like an angel

In apprehension how like a god

The beauty of the world

The paragon of animals

I have of late

But wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth

This goodly frame

The earth seems to me a sterile promontory

This most excellent canopy

The air look you

This brave o'erhanging firmament

This majestical roof

Fretted with golden fire

Why it appears no other thing to me

Than a foul and pestilent congregation

Of vapors

What a piece of work is man

How noble in reason