Parliament's a stage, <br />And all the Politicians merely players! <br />They have their exits and entrances, <br />And Wise doth in his time play many parts, <br />His acts being seven changes. <br />First the Runner, <br />With spiked shoe he spurns the cinder track, <br />And just for once runs straight. <br /> <br />The next the Student, <br />Burning the midnight oil with Adam Smith <br />For Cobden Medals. <br /> <br />Next the youthful member, <br />With shining morning face, creeping between <br />Two seasoned leaders into place and power <br />Before his whiskers grow. <br /> <br />The next the bravo. <br />Jealous of greater men, he cries, "Ha, Ha! <br />Beware Bernardo's dagger!" -- and would strike <br />His friend i' th' back. <br /> <br />Then come a sudden change. <br />Once more a child, he comes with quick-turned coat, <br />New friends, new doctrines, and new principles, <br />Lets Friedman loose, and wrecks the Government. <br />Then leads the horny-handed sons of toil <br />By many a specious promise to their doom <br />In Arbitration Courts. <br /> <br />Last scene of all, <br />That ends this strange, disastrous history. <br />He aims at Judgeships and Commissionerships, <br />But, failing, passes on to mere oblivion. <br />Sans place, sans power, sans pay, sans everything.<br /><br />Andrew Barton Paterson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-seven-ages-of-wise/
