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The
sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well sav’d,
a world too wide For his shrunk shank;
and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound.
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Last
scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste,
sans everything.
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