Economic Policies in the age of Globalisation

The ages roll
Forward; and forward with them, draw my soul
Into time's infinite sea.
And to be glad, or sad, I care no more;
But to have done, and to have been, before I cease to do and be.

On his bold visage middle age
Had slightly press'd its signet sage.

Old age is courteous—no one more:
For time after time he knocks at the door,
But nobody says, "Walk in, sir, pray!"
Yet turns he not from the door away,
But lifts the latch, and enters with speed,
And then they cry, "A cool one, indeed."