Classic Poem

Is this the boastful pride of mortal state?
Is it for this we covet to be great?
What short-liv'd bliss, from envy'd grandeur springs,
When these poor reliques, once, were mighty kings!
O frail uncertainty of earthly pow'r!
Where graves can majesty itself devour!
How naked, now, does royalty appear!
Alas! how vast, how sad a change is here!
Tell me, dumb dust? how wide was thy command?
Where's, now, the sceptre, that once fill'd this hand?
Where are those brawny guards, which aw'd thy state?
Where the gay crowds, which, once, were proud to wait?
Can narrow limits, dark, like these, contain
The chang'd extent of thy contracted reign?
Canst thou, at whose least frown, a nation shook,
And, trembling, watch'd the light'nings of thy look:
Canst thou, at last, grown humble, be content,
To let bold search prophane thy monument?
And common men, grown rude, and wanton, too,
Thus poize your dusty bones, and wonder at the view.