'Where is the world?' cries Young at eighty. 'Where
The world in which a man was born?' Alas!
Where is the world of eight years past? 'Twas there--
I look for it -- 'tis gone, a globe of glass,
Cracked, shivered, vanished, scarcely gazed on, ere
A silent change dissolves the glittering mass.
Statesmen, chiefs, orators, queens, patriots, kings,
And dandies, all are gone on the wind's wings.
--Lord Byron
Don Juan Canto 11, stanza 76.