The Tragedie Of Macbeth Actus Quintus Scena Quinta Lyrics

"To tomorrow, to tomorrow, and to tomorrow
Creepes in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last Syllable of Recorded time:
And all our yesterdays, haue lighted Fooles
The way to dusty death. Out, out breefe Candle, Life's but a walking Shadow, a poore Player.
That struts and frets his houre vpon the Stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a Tale
Told by an Ideot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing."

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