A great power, Carthage or Rome, Athens or Persia, Britain or the United States, is born in heightened, flaming energy and heroism, determined to climb the beckoning golden mountains shimmering brightly in the distance. Noon finds them standing on the snow capped peaks, masters of all, unaware that the sun has already begun the slow curving glide to the horizon. By mid-afternoon the once flaming energy has abated, and with the coming of dusk, the day is done, and sleep is upon them.

The dawning paints the night sky gray
And rising with the sun
The man takes up the growing day
And Empire begun
The shining mountains, caps aflame
Rise in the morning mist
He knows those mountains he must claim
‘Fore entering the list
At noon he stands on heights so cold
The morning long he climbed
The treasure peaks of shimm’ring gold
With icy diamonds rimed
Into the late day sun he sits
Upon his lofty throne
The sun the sun of Austerlitz
The world was his alone
Unto the dusk his word was king
His bidding instant done
But others struggled for his ring
And come the setting sun
The man now old laid burdens down
And entered into sleep
And dreamed the dreams of past renown
With memories to keep
While others, younger, come the dawn
Saw golden mountains glow
And to the ice rimed mountains drawn
An empire to grow