BELSHAZZAR! from the banquet turn, Nor in thy sensual fulness fall; Behold! while yet before thee burn The graven words, the glowing wall. Many a despot men miscall Crown'd and anointed from on high; But thou, the weakest, worst of all -- Is it not written, thou must die? Go! dash the roses from thy brow -- Grey hairs but poorly wreathe with them; Youth's garlands misbecome thee now, More than thy very diadem, Where thou hast tarnish'd every gem: -- Then throw the worthless bauble by, Which, worn by thee, ev'n slaves contemn; And learn like better men to die! Oh! early in the balance weigh'd, And ever light of word and worth, Whose soul expired ere youth decay'd, And left thee but a mass of earth. To see thee moves the scorner's mirth: But tears in Hope's averted eye Lament that even thou hadst birth -- Unfit to govern, live, or die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEAF HOUSE AGENT by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE HEART'S RETURN by EDWIN MARKHAM SWEET CLOVER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO WHISTLER, AMERICAN; ON LOAN EXHIBIT OF PAINTINGS AT TATE GALLERY by EZRA POUND |