“Where is the World?” cries Young, at eighty—“Where
The World in which a man was born?” Alas!
Where is the world of eight years past? ’Twas there—
I look for it—’tis gone, a globe of glass!
Cracked, shivered, vanished, scarcely gazed on, ere
A silent change dissolves the glittering mass.
Statesmen, Chiefs, Orators, Queens, Patriots, Kings,
And Dandies—all are gone on the Wind’s wings.