Time and Fame

A PART from crowds and public view,
In solitude reflection grew;
Of ancient Empires, one by one,
The course with passing thought was run:

The Persian — the Assyrian Kings —
Have left no plumage of their wings;
From Greece and Rome , the Poet's theme,
No relicks — but a Winter's dream.

To vindicate the name he bore,
In vain the Persian I implore:
" Where is the Earth's proud Victor gone?
And what 's become of Macedon ? "

Hurl'd from their Fame's triumphant car,
What crumbling dust these Giants are!
If they are sports, and wrecks of thee,
Tell me, oh Time , what hopes for me ?
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