p. 6 | Belshazzar by Anon.

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Jan 23, 1912

Belshazzar

By Anon.

Belshazzar is king, Belshazzar is lord! And a thousand dark nobles now bend at his board. Fruits glisten, flowers blossom, meats steam, and a flood Of the wine that man loveth runs redder than blood. Wild dancers are there, and a riot of mirth, With the beauty that maddens the passions of earth. And the crowds all shout till the vast roofs ring, "All praise to Belshazzar, Belshazzar the king!"

"Bring forth," cries the monarch, "those vessels of gold That my father tore down from the temple of old." They are brought, and before him the vessels all shine, And he bows unto Baal, and he drinks the dark wine, While the trumpets loud bray and the cymbals ring, "Praise, praise to Belshazzar, Belshazzar the king!"

Now what cometh, look, look, without herald or call? What writes with the lightning's bright hand on the wall? What pierces the king like the point of a dart? What drives the bold blood from the cheek to the heart? "Chaldeans, magicians! the letters expound." They are read, and Belshazzar is dead on the ground; For a Persian is come on a conqueror's wing, And a Mede's on the throne of Belshazzar the king. —Anon.