Classic Poem

First Court. ( rises and kneels .) Hail, mighty king.
Second Court. Belshazzar, live for ever;
Third Court. Sun of the world, and light of kings, all hail!
Fourth Court. With lowly rev'rence, such as best becomes
The humblest creatures of imperial power,
Behold a thousand nobles head before thee!
Princes far fam'd, and dames of high descent:
Yet all this pride of wealth, this beast of beauty,
Shrinks into nought before thine awful eye!
And lives or dies as the king frowns or smiles!
Bel. This is such homage as becomes your love,
And suits the mighty monarch of mankind.
Fifth Court. The bending world should prostrate thus before thee;
And pay not only praise but adoration!
Bel. ( rises and comes forward .) Let dull philosophy preach self-denial;
Let envious poverty and snarling age
Proudly declaim against the joys they know not.
Let the deluded Jews, who fondly hope
Some fancied heav'n hereafter, mortify
And lose the actual blessings of this world
To purchase others which may never come.
Our gods may promise less, but give us more.
Ill could my ardent spirit he content
With meagre abstinence and hungry hope.
Let those misjudging Israelites, who want
The nimble spirits and the native soul,
Call their blunt feelings virtue: let them drudge,
In regular progression, through the round
Of formal duty and of daily toil;
And, when they want the genius to be happy,
Believe their harsh austerity is goodness.
If there be gods, they meant we should enjoy:
Why give us else these tastes and appetites?
And why the means to crown them with indulgence?
To burst the feeble bonds which hold the vulgar,
Is noble daring.
First Court. And is therefore worthy
The high imperial spirit of Belshazzar.
Second Court. Behold a banquet which the gods might share!
Bel. To-night, my friends, your monarch shall be blast
With every various joy; to-night is ours;
Nor shall the envious gods, who view our bliss
And sicken as they view, to-night disturb us.
Bring all the richest spices of the East;
The od'rous cassia and the drooping myrrh,
The liquid amber and the fragrant gums;
Rob Gilead of its balms, Belshazzar bids,
And leave tho Arabian groves without an odour.
Bring freshest flow're, exhaust the blooming spring,
Twine the green myrtle with the short-liv'd rose;
And ever, as the blushing garland fades,
We'll learn to snatch the fugitive delight,
And grasp the flying joy ere it escape us.
Come — fill the smiling goblet for the king;
Belshazzar will not let a moment pass
Unmark'd by some enjoyment! The full howl
Let every guest partake!
First Court. Here's to the king!
Light of the world, and glory of the earth,
Whose word is fate!
Bel. Yes; we are likest gods
When we have power, and use it. What is wealth
But the rich means to gratify desire?
I will not have a wish, a hope, a thought,
That shall not know fruition. What is empire?
The privilege to punish and enjoy;
To feel our power in making others fear it;
To taste of pleasure's cup till we grow giddy,
And think ourselves immortal! This is empire!
My ancestors scarce tasted of its joys:
Shut from the sprightly world, and all its charms,
In cumbrous majesty, in sullen state
And dull unsocial dignity they liv'd;
Far from the sight of an admiring world,
That world, whose gaze makes half the charms of greatness;
They nothing knew of empire but the name,
Or saw it in the looks of trembling slaves;
And all they felt of royalty was care.
But I will see and know of it myself;
Youth, wealth, and greatness court me to be blest,
And power and pleasure draw with equal force
And sweet attraction: both I will embrace
In quick succession; this is pleasure's day;
Ambition will have time to reign hereafter;
It is the proper appetite of age.
The last of power shall lord it uncontroll'd,
When all the generous feelings grow obtuse,
And stern dominion holds with rigid hand
His iron rein, and sits and sways alone.
But youth is pleasure's hour!
First Court. Perish the slave
Who with officious counsel would oppose
The king's desire, whose slightest wish is law!
Bel. Now strike the loud-toned lyre and softer lute;
Let me have music, with the nobler nid
Of poesy. Where are those cunning men
Who boast, by chosen sounds, and measur'd sweetness,
To set the busy spirits in a flame,
And cool them at their will? who know the art
To call the hidden powers of numbers forth,
And make that pliant instrument, the mind,
Yield to the powerful sympathy of sound,
Obedient to the master's artful hand?
Such magic is in song! Then give me song;
Yet not at first such soul-dissolving strains
As melt the soften'd sense; but such bold measures
As may inflame my spirit to despise
Th' ambitious Persian, that presumptuous boy
Who rushly dares e'en now invest our city,
And menaces th' invincible Belshazzar.

In vain shall Persian Cyrus dare
With great Belshazzar wage unequal war;
In vain Darius shall combine,
Darius, leader of the Median line;
While fair Euphrates' stream our walls protects,
And great Belshazzar's self our fate directs,
War and famine threat in vain,
While this demi-god shall reign!
Let Persia's prostrate king confess his power,
And Media's monarch dread his vengeful hour.
On Duru's ample plain behold
Immortal Belus, whom the nations own;
Sublime he stands in burnish'd gold,
And richest offerings his bright altars crown.
To night his deity we here adore,
And due libations speak his mighty power.
Yet Belus' self not more we own
Than great Belshazzar on Chaldea's throne.
Great Belshazzar like a god,
Rules the nations with a nod!
To great Belshazzar be the goblet crown'd!
Belshazzar's name the echoing roofs rebound!
Bel. Enough! the kindling rapture fires my brain,
And my heart dances to the flatt'ring sounds.
I feel myself a god! why not a god?
What were the deities our fathers worshipp'd?
What was great Nimrod, our imperial founder?
What greater Belus, to whose pow'r divine
We raise to-night the banquet and the song;
But youthful heroes, mortal, like myself,
Who by their daring earn'd divinity?
They were but men: nay, some were less than men,
Though now rever'd as gods. What was Anubis,
Whom Egypt's sapient sons adore? A dog!
And shall not I, young, valiant, and a king,
Dare more? do more? exceed the boldest flights
Of my progenitors? — Fill me more wine,
To cherish and exalt the young idea!
Ne'er did Olympian Jupiter himself
Quaff such immortal draughts.
First Court . What could that Cannan,
That heaven in hope, that nothing in possession,
That air-built bliss of the deluded Jews,
That promis'd land of milk and flowing honey;
What could that fancied Paradise bestow
To match these generous juices?
Bel. Hold — enough!
Thou hast rous'd a thought. By Heav'n, I will enjoy it
A glorious thought! which will exalt to rapture
The pleasures of the banquet, and bestow
A yet untasted relish of delight.
First Court . What means the king?
Bel. The Jews! saidst thou the Jews?
First Court . I spoke of that undone, that outcast people,
Those tributary creatures of thy power,
The captives of thy will, whose very breath
Hangs on the sovereign pleasure of the king.
Bel. When that abandon'd race was hither brought,
Were not the choicest treasures of their temple,
(Devoted to their God, and held most precious,)
Among the spoils which graced Nebassar's triumph,
And lodg'd in Babylon?
First Court . O king! they were.
Second Court . The Jews, with superstitious awe behold
Those sacred symbols of their ancient faith:
Nor has captivity abated aught
Tho rev'rent love they hear these holy relles.
Though we deride their law, and scorn their persons.
Yet never have we yet to human use
Devoted these rich vessels set apart
To sacred purposes.
Bel. I joy to hear it!
Go — fetch them hither. They shall grace but banquet.
Does no one stir? Belshazzar disobey'd?
And yet you live? Whence comes this strange reluctance?
This new born rev'rence for the helpless Jews?
This fear to injure those who can't revenge it?
Send to the sacred treasury in haste,
Let all be hither brought; — who answers dies.
The mantling wine a higher joy will yield,
Pour'd from the precious fingous which adorn'd
Their far-fam'd temple, now in ashes laid.
Oh! 'twill exalt the pleasure into transport
To gull those whining, praying Israelites!
I laugh to think what wild dismay will seize them,
When they shall learn the use that has been made
Of all their holy trumpery!
Second Court . It comes;
A goodly, shew! how bright with gold and gems!
Far fitter for a youthful monarch's board
Than the cold shrine of an unheeding God.
Bel. Fill me, that massy goblet to the brim.
Now, Abraham! let thy wretched race expect
The fable of their faith to be fulfill'd;
Their second temple, and their promis'd king!
Now will they see the God they vainly serve
Is impotent to help; for, had he pow'r
To hear and grant their pray'r, he would prevent
This profanation.

First Court . Oh, transcendent horror!
Second Court . What may this mean? The king is greatly moved!
Third Court . Nor is it strange — who unappall'd can view it?
Those sacred cups! I doubt we've gone too far!
First Court . Observe the fear-struck king! his starting eyes
Roll horribly. Thrice he essay'd to speak,
And thrice his tongue refus'd.
Bel. Ye mystic words!
Thou semblance of a hand! illusive forms!
Ye wild fantastic images, what are ye?
Dread shadows, speak! Explain your dark intent!
Ye will not answer me — Alas! I feel
I am a mortal now — My failing limbs
Refuse to bear me up. I am no god!
Gods do not tremble thus — Support me, hold me:
These loosen'd joints, these knees which smite each other,
Betray I'm but a man — a weak one too!
First Court . In truth 'tis passing strange; and full of horror!
Bel. Send for the learn'd magicians, every sage
Who deals in wizard spells and magic charms.
First Court . How fares my lord the king?
Bel. Am I a king?
What power have I? Ye lying slaves, I am not.
O soul-distracting sight! but is it real?
Perhaps 'tis fancy all, or the wild dream
Of mad distemperature, the fumes of wine!
I'll look upon't no more! — So — now I'm well!
I am a king again, and know not fear.
And yet my eyes will seek that fatal spot,
And fondly dwell upon the sight that blasts them!
Again, 'tis there! it is not fancy's work,
I see it still! 'tis written on the wall!
I see the writing, but the viewless writer,
Who! what is he? Oh, horror! horror! horror!
It cannot be the God of these poor Jews;
For what is He, that He can thus afflict?
Second Court . Let not my lord the king be thus dismay'd.
Third Court . Let not a phantom, an illusive shade,
Disturb the peace of him who rules the world.
Bel . No more, ye wretched sycophants! no more!
The sweetest note which flattery now can strike,
Harsh and discordant grates upon my soul.
Talk not of power to one so full of fear,
So weak, so impotent! Look on that wall;
If thou would'st soothe my soul, explain the writing,
And thou shall be my oracle, my god!
O tell me whence it came, and what it means,
And I'll believe I am again a king!
Friends! Princes! ease my troubled breast, and say
What do the mystic characters portend?
First Court . 'Tis not in as, O king, to ease thy spirit;
We are not skill'd in those mysterious arts
Which wait the midnight studies of the sage;
But of the deep diviners thou shalt learn,
The wise astrologers, the sage magicians,
Who, of events unborn; take secret note,
And hold deep commerce with the unseen world.
Bel. Approach, ye sages, 'tis the king commands!
Ast. Hall, mighty king of Babylon!
Bel. Nay, rise:
I do not need your homage, but your help;
The world may worship you must counsel me.
He who declares the secret of the king,
No common honours shall await his skill;
Our empire shall be tax'd for his reward,
And he himself shall name the gift he wishes.
A splendid scarlet robe shall grace his limbs,
His neck a princely chain of gold adorn;
Meet honours for such wisdom; he shall rule
The third in rank throughout our Babylon.
Second Ast. Such recompense becomes Belshazzar's bounty.
Let the king speak the secret of his soul;
Which heard, his humble creatures shall unfold.
Bel. Be't so — look there — behold those characters!
Nay, do not start, for I will know their meaning!
Ha! answer; speak, or instant death awaits you!
What, dumb! all dumb! where is your boasted skill?
Keep them asunder — no confed'racy —
No secret plots to make your tales agree.
Speak slaves, and dare to let me know the worst!
First Ast. O let the king forgive his faithful servants!
Second Ast. O mitigate our threaten'd doom of death,
If we declare, with mingled grief and shame,
We cannot tell the secret of the king,
Nor what these mystic characters portend!
Bel. Off with their heads! Ye shall not live an hour!
Curse on your shallow arts, your lying science!
'Tis thus you practise on the credulous world,
Who think you wise because themselves are weak!
But, miscreants, ye shall die! the power to punish
Is all that I have left me of a king.
First Court . Great sire, suspend their punishment awhile;
Behold Nitocris comes, thy royal mother!

Queen . O my misguided son!
Well may'st thou wonder to beheld me here:
For I have ever shunn'd this scene of riot,
Where wild intemperance and dishonoured mirth
Hold festival impure. Yet, O Belshazzar!
I could not hear the wonders which befell,
And leave thee to the workings of despair:
For, spite of all the anguish of my soul
At thy offences, I'm thy mother still!
Against the solemn purpose I have form'd
Never to mix in this unhallow'd crowd,
The wondrous story of the mystic writing,
Of strange and awful import, brings me here;
If haply I may show some likely means
To fathom this dark mystery.
Bel. Speak, O queen!
My list'ning soul shall hang upon thy words,
And prompt obedience follow them!
Queen . Then hear me.
Among the captive tribes which hither came
To grace Nebassar's triumph, there was brought
A youth named Daniel, favour'd by high Heaven
With power to look into the secret page
Of dim futurity's mysterious volume.
The spirit of the holy gods is in him;
No vision so obscure, so deeply hid,
No sentence so perplex'd, but he can solve it:
He can unfold the dark decrees of fate,
Can trace each crooked labyrinth of thought,
Each winding mare of doubt, and make it clear
And palpable to sense. He twice explain'd
The monarch's mystic dreams. The holy seer
Saw with prophetic spirit, what befell
The king long after. For his wondrous skill
He was rewarded, honour'd, and earess'd,
And with the rulers of Chaldea rank'd:
Though now, alas! thrown by, his services
Forgotten or neglected.
Bel. Send with speed
A message to command the holy man
To meet us on the instant.
Nit. I already
Have sent to ask his presence at the palace;
And lo! in happy season, see he comes.

Bel. Welcome, thrice venerable sage! approach.
Art thou that Daniel whom my great forefather
Brought hither, with the captive tribes of Judah?
Dan. I am, O king!
Bel. Then pardon, holy prophet;
Nor let a just resentment of thy wrongs,
And long neglected merit, shut thy heart
Against a king's request, a suppliant king!
Dan. The God I worship teaches to forgive.
Bel. Then let thy words bring comfort to my soul.
I've heard the spirit of the gods is in thee;
That thou canst look into the fates of men,
With prescience more than human!
Dan. Hold, O king!
Wisdom is from above; 'tis God's own gift;
I of myself am nothing: but from Him
The little knowledge I possess, I hold:
To Him be all the glory!
Bel. Then, O Daniel!
If thou indeed dost boast that wondrous gift,
That faculty divine; look there, and tell me!
O say, what mean those mystic characters?
Remove this load of terror from my soul,
And honours, such as kings can give, await thee.
Thou shalt be great beyond thy soul's ambition,
And rich above thy wildest dream of wealth:
Clad in the scarlet robe our nobles wear,
And graced with princely ensigns, thou shalt stand
Near our own throne, and third within our empire.
Dan. O mighty king, thy gifts with thee remain,
And let thy high rewards on others fall.
The princely ensign, nor the scarlet robe,
Nor yet to be the third within thy realm,
Can touch the soul of Daniel. Honour, fame,
All that the world calls great, thy crown itself,
Could never satisfy the vast ambition
Of an immortal spirit; I aspire
Beyond thy power of giving; my high hopes
Reach also to a crown — but 'tis a crown
Unfading and eternal.
First Court . Wondrous man!
Our priests teach no such notions.
Dan. Yet, O king!
Though all unmoved by grandeur or by gift,
I will unfold the high decrees of Heaven,
And straight declare the mystery.
Bel. Speak, O prophet!
Dan. Prepare to hear what kings have seldom heard
Prepare to hear what courtiers seldom tell;
Prepare to hear — the truth. The mighty God,
Who rules the sceptres and the hearts of kings,
Gave thy renown'd forefather here to reign,
With such extent of empire, weight of power,
And greatness of dominion, the wide earth
Trembled beneath the terror of his name,
And kingdoms stood or fell as he decreed.
Oh! dangerous pinnacle of power supreme;
Who can stand safe upon its trench'rous top,
Behold the gazing prostrate world below,
Whom depth and distance into pigmies shrink,
And not grow giddy? Babylon's great king
Forgot he was a man, a helpless man,
Subject to pain, and sin, and death, like others!
But who shall fight against Omnipotence?
Or who hath harden'd his obdurate heart
Against the majesty of Heav'n, and prospered?
The God he had insulted was aveng'd;
From empire, from the joys of social life,
He drove him forth; extinguish'd reason's lamp;
Quench'd that bright spark of Deity within;
Compell'd him with the forest brutes to roam
For scanty pasture; and the mountain dews
Fell, cold and wet, on his defenceless head,
Till he confess'd — let men, let monarchs hear —
Till he confess'd, " Pride was not made for man ! "
Nit. O, awful instance of divine displeasure!
Bel. Proceed! my soul is wrapt in fix'd attention!
Dan. O king! thy grandsire not in vain had sinn'd,
If, from his error, thou hadst learnt the truth.
The story of his fail thou oft hast heard,
But has it taught thee wisdom? Thou, like him,
Hast been elate with power, and mad with pride.
Like him, thou hast defied the living God.
Nay, to bold thoughts hast added deeds more bold.
Thou hast outwrought the pattern he bequeath'd thee,
And quite outgone example; hast profan'd
With impious hand the vessels of the temple;
Those vessels, sanctified to holiest use,
Thou hast polluted with unhallow'd lips,
And made the instruments of foul debauch.
Thou hast adored the gods of wood and stone,
Vile, senseless deities, the work of hands,
But H E , the King of kings, and Lord of lords,
In whom exists thy life, thy soul, thy breath,
On whom thy being hangs, thou hast denied.
First Court . With what an holy boldness he reproves him!
Second Court . Such is the fearless confidence of virtue!
And such the righteous courage those maintain
Who plead the cause of truth! The smallest word
He utters had been death to half the court.
Bel. Now let the mystic writing he explain'd,
Thrice venerable sage!
Dan. O, mighty king!
Hear, then, its awful import: Heaven has number'd
Thy days of royalty , and soon will end them. .
Our God has weigh'd thee in the even balance
Of his own holy law , and finds thee wanting:
And last, thy kingdom shall be wrested from thee:
And know, the Mede and Persian shall possess it.
Bel. Prophet, when shall this be?
Dan. In God's own time:
Here my commission ends; I may not utter
More than thou'st heard: but, oh! remember, king!
Thy days are number'd: hear, repent, and live!
Bel. Say, prophet, what can penitence avail?
If Heaven's decrees immutably are fix'd,
Can prayers avert our fate?
Dan. They change our hearts,
And thus dispose Omnipotence to mercy.
'Tis man that alters; God is still the same.
Conditional are all Heaven's covenants;
And when th' uplifted thunder is withheld,
'Tis prayer that deprecates th' impending holt.
Good Hezeltiah's days were number'd too;
But penitence and faith were mighty pleas:
At mercy's throne they never plead in vain.

Bel. Stay, prophet, and receive thy promis'd gift;
The scarlet robe and princely chain are thine:
And let my heralds publish through the land
That Daniel stands, in dignity and pow'r,
The third in Babylon. These just rewards
Thou well may'st claim, though sad thy prophecy!
Queen. Be not deceiv'd, my son I nor let thy soul
Snatch an uncertain moment's treach'rous rest,
On the dread brink of that tremendous gulf
Which yawns beneath thee.
Dan. O unhappy king!
Know what must happen once, may happen soon.
Remember that 'tis terrible to meet
Great evils unprepar'd! and, oh, Belshazzar!
In the wild moment of dismay and death,
Remember thou wast warn'd! and, oh! remember,
Warnings despis'd are condemnations then!
Bel. 'Tis well — my soul shakes off its load of care:
'Tis only the obscure is terrible.
Imagination frames events unknown,
In wild fantastic shapes of hideous ruin;
And what it fears, creates! — I know the worst;
And awful is that worst as fear could feign;
But distant are the ills I have to dread!
What is remote may be uncertain too!
Ha! princes! hope breaks in — This may not be.
First Court. Perhaps this Daniel is in league with Persia!
And bribed by Cyrus to report these horrors,
To weaken and impede the mighty plans
Of thy imperial mind!
Bel. 'Tis very like.
Second Court. Return we to the banquet.
Bel. Dare we venture?
Third Court. Let not this dreaming seer disturb the king,
Against the power of Cyrus and the Mede
Is Babylon secure. Her brazen gates
Mock all attempts to force them. Proud Euphrates,
A watery bulwark, guards our ample city
From all assailants. And within the walls
Of this stupendous capital are lodg'd
Such vast provisions, such exhaustless stores,
As a twice ten years' siege could never waste!
Bel. My better genius! Safe in such resources,
I mock the prophet. Turn we to the banquet!

Sol. Oh, helpless Babylon! Oh, wretched king!
Chaidea is no more, the Mede has conquer'd!
The victor Cyrus, like a mighty torrent,
Comes rushing on, and marks his way with ruin!
Destruction is at hand; escape or perish.
Bel. Impossible! Villain and slave, thou liest!
Euphrates and the brazen gates secure us.
While those remain, Belshazzar laughs at danger.
Sol. Euphrates is diverted from its course;
The brazen gates are burst, the city's taken,
Thyself a pris'ner, and thy empire lost.
Bel. Oh, prophet! I remember thee indeed!

First Jew. He comes, he comes! the long predicted prince,
Cyrus! the destin'd instrument of Heav'n
To free our captive nation, and restore
Jehovah's temple. Carnage marks his way,
And conquest sits upon his plume-crown'd helm!
Second Jew. What noise is that?
First Jew. Hark! 'tis Belahazzar's voice!
Bel. O soldier, spare my life, and aid my flight!
Such treasures shall reward the gentle deed
As Persia never saw. I'll be thy slave;
I'll yield my crown to Cyrus; I'll adore
His gods and thine — I'll kneel and kiss thy feet,
And worship thee. It is not much I ask —
I'll live in bondage, beggary, and pain,
So thou but let me live.
Sol. Die, tyrant, die!
Bel. O, Daniel! Daniel! Daniel!

Sol. Belshazzar's dead!
The wretched king breath'd out his furious soul
In that tremendous groan.
First Jew. Belshazzar's dead!
Then, Judah, art thou free! The tyrant's fall'n!
Jerusalem, Jerusalem is free!