Dreaming of the future and the past,
As he gazed, amid the gold pavilions
Round his throne, upon that crowd so vast.
Musing, with subdued and solemn feelings,
On the awful thoughts that filled his soul—
One of those most terrible revealings
That will sometimes o’er the spirit roll.
Thoughts, that of that multitude before him
Panting high for fame—athirst to strive—
Ere old Time had sped a century o’er him,