Vision of Belshazzar
by George Gordon, Lord Byron
(From Hebrew Melodies - 1815)
1
- The King was on his throne,
- The Satraps throngd the hall;
- A thousand bright lamps shone
- Oer that high festival.
- A thousand cups of gold,
- In Judah deemd divine
- Jehovahs vessels hold
- The godless Heathens wine!
- In that same hour and hall,
- The fingers of a hand
- Came forth against the wall,
- And wrote as if on sand:
- The fingers of a man;
- A solitary hand
- Along the letters ran,
- And traced them like a wand.
2
- The monarch saw, and shook,
- And bade no more rejoice;
- All bloodless waxd his look,
- And tremulous his voice.
- Let the men of lore appear,
- The wisest of the earth,
- And expound the words of fear.
- Which mar our royal mirth.
- Chaldeas seers are good,
- But here they have no skill;
- And the unknown letters stood
- Untold and awful still.
- And Babels men of age
- Are wise and deep in lore;
- But now they were not sage,
- They sawbut knew no more.
3
- A captive in the land,
- A stranger and a youth,
- He heard the kings command,
- He saw that writings truth.
- The lamps around were bright,
- The prophecy in view;
- He read it on that night,
- The morrow proved it true.
- Belshazzars grave is made,
- His kingdom passd away,
- He, in the balance weighed,
- Is light and worthless clay.
- The shroud, his robe of state,
- His canopy the stone;
- The Mede is at his gate!
- The Persian on his throne!
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