Do you remember when the curtain fell
On him who learned he was not God at last?


II

Do you still see the shadows of the great?
On powdered wigs and velvets, silks and lace;
Or dream at night a feted queen, in state,
Accepts men's homage with a haughty face?


III

A thousand names come tumbling to the mind.
Of dead who gazed upon themselves through you.
And went their way, each one his end to find
In paths that glory or red terror knew.


IV

Voltaire and Rousseau and Ben Franklin here,
You've seen hobnobbing with the highly-born;
Seen Genius smile, while, with a hint of fear,
It gave to Birth not homage but its scorn.


V