To whom the trembling nations kneel,600
Before whose nod the barbarous Medes
Lay down their arms, the Indians too,
Who dwell beneath the nearer sun,
And Dacians, who the Parthian horse
Are ever threat'ning: he, the king,
With anxious mind the scepter bears,
Foresees and fears the fickle chance605
And shifting time which soon or late
Shall all his power overthrow.