BELSHAZZER'S FEAST.
The sun has sunk 'neath yonder distant hill,A hush pervades the world and all is still;And twilight shadows lengthen into night,That screens earth's beauties from the eager sight. The city seems to sleep, yet, many a sceneOf sin, of misery and sorrow keenThis hour enacted 'neath the garb of night,Most terrifying to the human sight.
But hark! — these sounds — are they of revelry?What means this grand and pompous page- antry,—These notes rung from the harp and tabrets's soul,That wake the brain and o'er the senses roll. All Babylon awakes to view the sight,Of lords and princes'rayed in garments white;And mark their march to yonder stately hall,