And tottering empires rush by their own weight.
This huge rotundity we tread grows old,
And all these worlds that roll around the sun;
The sun himself shall die, and ancient night
Again involve the desolate abyss,
Till the Great Father, through the lifeless gloom,
Extend his arm to light another world,
And bid new planets roll by other laws.
We remember a piece of stage sentiment, beginning
“Time! Time! Time! why ponder o’er thy glass,