Judah restored a poem. In six books. By Dr. Roberts ... In two volumes |
 | I, II. |
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| I. | BOOK I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
 | Judah restored |  |
BOOK I.
ARGUMENT OF THE FIRST BOOK.
The subject proposed—state of the Jews towards the end of the captivity—Character of Belshazzar—A feast proclaimed in honour of Baal—Night comes on—Daniel's prayer—The angel Gabriel appears to Daniel—foretells the destruction of Babylon by Cyrus, and the deliverance of the Jews—directs Daniel how to behave, when sent for by Belshazzar to interpret a sign from heaven—The angel retires —Zorobabel comes to Daniel—his character—his conversation with Daniel—Zorobabel, Misael, and Ananiah, encourage the tribes—Morning rises—procession to the temple of Belus—the temple described—a sacrifice—the Chaldæans fall down before their idol—the Jews refuse to comply —Belshazzar's rage—the banquet described—the King's impiety—the hand-writing on the wall—Daniel sent for— his appearance—his interpretation—Belshazzar's resentment —Daniel prophesies the destruction of Babylon—the terror of the King—but the banquet continues
1
The fall of proud Belshazzar, the return
Of Benjamin, and Judah, captive tribes,
I sing. Spirit of God, who to the eyes
Of holy seers in vision didst reveal
Events far distant; thou, who once didst touch
Their lips with heavenly fire, and tune their harps
To strains, sublimer than the Tuscan stream
Caught from his Latian bards, or ecchoed round
The wide Ægean from Ionia's shore,
Inspire my soul; blest spirit, aid my song.
Of Benjamin, and Judah, captive tribes,
I sing. Spirit of God, who to the eyes
Of holy seers in vision didst reveal
Events far distant; thou, who once didst touch
Their lips with heavenly fire, and tune their harps
To strains, sublimer than the Tuscan stream
Caught from his Latian bards, or ecchoed round
2
Inspire my soul; blest spirit, aid my song.
The sun full seventy times had pass'd the realm
Of burning Scorpius, and was hastening down
The steep convex of heaven, since Babylon
Receiv'd her mourning prisoners. Savage taunts,
And the rude insult of their barbarous lords,
Embitter all their woe. Meanwhile the Law,
Proclaim'd on Horeb's top, neglected lies;
Nor kid, nor evening lamb, nor heifer bleeds,
Nor incense smoaks, nor holy Levite claims
Choice fruits, and rich oblations. On the trees,
That o'er the waters bend, their untun'd harps,
Harps, which their fathers struck to festal hymns,
Hang useless. 'Twas the hill, 'twas Sion's hill,
Which yet Jehovah lov'd. There once he dwelt;
There stood his temple; there from side to side
The cherub stretch'd his wings, and from the cloud
Beam'd bright celestial radiance. Thence, tho driven
In early childhood to a stranger's land
Or born sad heirs of slavery, still they cast
An anxious look from Perath's willowy vale,
Toward Jordan, sacred stream; and when the sun
Sunk in the west, with eager eye pursued
His parting beams; and pointed to the place,
Where from their sight the faint horizon hid
Those hills, which round deserted Salem's walls
Stood like a bulwark. And as some tired hart,
Driven by keen hunters o'er the champain wild,
Pants for the running brook, so long the tribes
Of captive Judah for their native clime,
Again to sing the strains of Jesse's son,
Again to raise a temple to their God.
Of burning Scorpius, and was hastening down
The steep convex of heaven, since Babylon
Receiv'd her mourning prisoners. Savage taunts,
And the rude insult of their barbarous lords,
Embitter all their woe. Meanwhile the Law,
Proclaim'd on Horeb's top, neglected lies;
Nor kid, nor evening lamb, nor heifer bleeds,
Nor incense smoaks, nor holy Levite claims
Choice fruits, and rich oblations. On the trees,
That o'er the waters bend, their untun'd harps,
Harps, which their fathers struck to festal hymns,
Hang useless. 'Twas the hill, 'twas Sion's hill,
3
There stood his temple; there from side to side
The cherub stretch'd his wings, and from the cloud
Beam'd bright celestial radiance. Thence, tho driven
In early childhood to a stranger's land
Or born sad heirs of slavery, still they cast
An anxious look from Perath's willowy vale,
Toward Jordan, sacred stream; and when the sun
Sunk in the west, with eager eye pursued
His parting beams; and pointed to the place,
Where from their sight the faint horizon hid
Those hills, which round deserted Salem's walls
Stood like a bulwark. And as some tired hart,
Driven by keen hunters o'er the champain wild,
4
Of captive Judah for their native clime,
Again to sing the strains of Jesse's son,
Again to raise a temple to their God.
But oh! what hope, what prospect of return,
While fierce Belshazzar reigns? He undismay'd
Tho' hostile banners stream near Babel's towers,
Round his gall'd prisoners binds the griping chain,
And scoffs at Judah's God. Even now a shout
Is heard thro every street, and with loud voice
Arioch, an herald tall, proclaims a feast
To Bel, Chaldæan idol; and commands
That when the morrow dawns, soon as is heard
The sound of cornet, dulcimer, and harp,
Sackbut, and psaltery, each knee be bent
Before the mighty dragon. Silent stand
With eyes dejected Solyma's sad sons.
Shall they comply? but will Jehovah then
E'er lead them back to Canaan, pleasant land?
Shall they refuse? but who, oh! who shall check
Belshazzar's waken'd wrath? who shall endure
The burning caldron, or what lingering death
The tyrant's cruel vengeance may devise?
Thus they irresolute wait the fatal hour.
While fierce Belshazzar reigns? He undismay'd
Tho' hostile banners stream near Babel's towers,
Round his gall'd prisoners binds the griping chain,
And scoffs at Judah's God. Even now a shout
Is heard thro every street, and with loud voice
Arioch, an herald tall, proclaims a feast
To Bel, Chaldæan idol; and commands
That when the morrow dawns, soon as is heard
The sound of cornet, dulcimer, and harp,
5
Before the mighty dragon. Silent stand
With eyes dejected Solyma's sad sons.
Shall they comply? but will Jehovah then
E'er lead them back to Canaan, pleasant land?
Shall they refuse? but who, oh! who shall check
Belshazzar's waken'd wrath? who shall endure
The burning caldron, or what lingering death
The tyrant's cruel vengeance may devise?
Thus they irresolute wait the fatal hour.
Now Night invests the pole: wrapt is the world
In awful silence; not a voice is heard,
Nor din of arms, nor sound of distant foot,
Thro the still gloom. Euphrates lulls his waves,
Which sparkle to the moon's reflected beam;
Nor does one sage from Babylon's high towers
Descry the planets, or the fix'd, and mark
Their distance, or their number. Sunk to rest,
With all her horrors of the morrow's doom,
Lies Sion's captive daughter: sleep, soft sleep,
His dusky mantle draws o'er every eye.
But not on Danïel's unpillow'd head
One opiate dew-drop falls. Much he revolves
Dark sentences of old; much pious zeal
For great Jehovah's honour fires his soul;
And thus with lifted hands the prophet cries.
In awful silence; not a voice is heard,
Nor din of arms, nor sound of distant foot,
Thro the still gloom. Euphrates lulls his waves,
Which sparkle to the moon's reflected beam;
Nor does one sage from Babylon's high towers
6
Their distance, or their number. Sunk to rest,
With all her horrors of the morrow's doom,
Lies Sion's captive daughter: sleep, soft sleep,
His dusky mantle draws o'er every eye.
But not on Danïel's unpillow'd head
One opiate dew-drop falls. Much he revolves
Dark sentences of old; much pious zeal
For great Jehovah's honour fires his soul;
And thus with lifted hands the prophet cries.
‘Father of truth, and mercy, thou, whose arm
‘Even from the day when Abraham heard thy voice,
‘Stretch'd o'er thy chosen race, protects us still,
‘Tho now awhile thou suffer us to groan
‘Beneath a tyrant's yoke; when, gracious Lord,
‘O when shall we return? O when again
‘Shall Siloa's banks, and Sion's holy top,
‘Be vocal with thy name? Said not thy seer,
‘When seventy tedious moons had twelve times waned,
‘We should again be free? Behold, the day
‘Approaches. God of Israel, hath ought chang'd
‘Thine everlasting counsel? wilt thou leave
‘Thy people yet in sad captivity,
‘And join thy prophet with the despis'd tribe
‘Of Babel's false diviners? Not to thee,
‘But to great Bel, Chaldæa's frantic priests
‘Waft clouds of incense. Soon as morning dawns,
‘With shouts the noisy revellers will proclaim
‘The triumph of their God; nor will they cease
‘To rouse their monarch's rage, should Judah dare
‘Resist his impious edict. Then, O then,
‘God of our fathers, rise; and in that day,
‘Even before night, whose vaulted arch now shines
‘With clustering stars, shall visit earth again,
‘Confound their horrid rites, and shew some sign
‘That yet again thy prisoners shall be free.’
‘Even from the day when Abraham heard thy voice,
‘Stretch'd o'er thy chosen race, protects us still,
‘Tho now awhile thou suffer us to groan
‘Beneath a tyrant's yoke; when, gracious Lord,
‘O when shall we return? O when again
7
‘Be vocal with thy name? Said not thy seer,
‘When seventy tedious moons had twelve times waned,
‘We should again be free? Behold, the day
‘Approaches. God of Israel, hath ought chang'd
‘Thine everlasting counsel? wilt thou leave
‘Thy people yet in sad captivity,
‘And join thy prophet with the despis'd tribe
‘Of Babel's false diviners? Not to thee,
‘But to great Bel, Chaldæa's frantic priests
‘Waft clouds of incense. Soon as morning dawns,
‘With shouts the noisy revellers will proclaim
‘The triumph of their God; nor will they cease
‘To rouse their monarch's rage, should Judah dare
‘Resist his impious edict. Then, O then,
8
‘Even before night, whose vaulted arch now shines
‘With clustering stars, shall visit earth again,
‘Confound their horrid rites, and shew some sign
‘That yet again thy prisoners shall be free.’
He spake, and sudden heard a rushing noise,
As when a North-west gale comes hovering round
Some cape, the point of spacious continent
Or in the Indian, or Pacific main;
The sailor hears it whistling in his shrowds,
And bids it hail. Bright as the summer's noon
Shone all the earth. Before the prophet stood
Gabriel, seraphic form: graceful his port,
Mild was his eye; yet such as might command
Reverence, and sacred awe, by purest love
Soften'd, but not impair'd. In waving curls
O'er his arch'd neck his golden tresses hung;
And on his shoulders two broad wings were plac'd,
Wings, which when clos'd, drew up in many a fold,
But, when extended to their utmost length,
Were twice ten cubits. Two of smaller size
Came shadowing round his feet, with which he trod
The elastic air, and walk'd o'er buoyant space,
As on firm ground. A tunic brac'd his limbs,
Blanch'd in the fields of light; and round his waist
Was clasp'd an azure zone, with lucid stars
All studded, like that circle broad, which cuts
The Equator, burning line. The astonish'd seer
With low obeysance bow'd his hoary head,
While thus in voice benign the Cherub spake.
As when a North-west gale comes hovering round
Some cape, the point of spacious continent
Or in the Indian, or Pacific main;
The sailor hears it whistling in his shrowds,
And bids it hail. Bright as the summer's noon
Shone all the earth. Before the prophet stood
Gabriel, seraphic form: graceful his port,
Mild was his eye; yet such as might command
Reverence, and sacred awe, by purest love
9
O'er his arch'd neck his golden tresses hung;
And on his shoulders two broad wings were plac'd,
Wings, which when clos'd, drew up in many a fold,
But, when extended to their utmost length,
Were twice ten cubits. Two of smaller size
Came shadowing round his feet, with which he trod
The elastic air, and walk'd o'er buoyant space,
As on firm ground. A tunic brac'd his limbs,
Blanch'd in the fields of light; and round his waist
Was clasp'd an azure zone, with lucid stars
All studded, like that circle broad, which cuts
The Equator, burning line. The astonish'd seer
With low obeysance bow'd his hoary head,
While thus in voice benign the Cherub spake.
‘Servant of God, that prayer was not unheard
‘In heaven. I caught it, as before the throne
‘I stood, within the emerald bow, and mix'd
‘With fragrant incense, offer'd it to him,
‘The white-rob'd Ancient of eternal days,
‘Even on his golden altar. Forthwith sent
‘To thee, with speed impetuous, swifter far
‘Than travels light's meridian beam, thro realms
‘Of space, studded with worlds, which neither thought
‘Of mortal can conceive, nor numbers count,
‘I come, God's messenger. Not twice the morn
‘Shall dawn, ere all the woes which Salem felt
‘Shall fall on Babylon. This, this is he,
‘Whose streamers now round these devoted towers
‘Wave to the western wind, whom God hath rais'd
‘His instrument of vengeance. Twice hath pass'd
‘A century, since him the
prophet stiled
‘Cyrus, the Lord's anointed. He shall say,
‘Cities of Judah rise; He shall command,
‘And Solyma's unpeopled streets again
‘Shall throng with busy multitudes. To him
‘In vision, or in dream, shall God reveal
‘His secret purpose; or what other way
‘His power shall mould the victor's ductile will
‘To execute his promise. One day more
‘Shall proud Chaldæa triumph. In that day
‘Let not a knee in Benjamin be bow'd
‘Save to Jehovah. What tho cruel pride
‘Inflame Belshazzar's soul; what tho his wrath
‘Torments unknown prepare; a sign from heaven
‘Shall blast each vain device, a sign obscure,
‘But terrible. Ask not what; for in that hour
‘Shall beam celestial knowledge on thy soul,
‘And thou shalt read the mystic characters
‘Of dark futurity. Fear not his frown;
‘But in the sight of his assembled peers
‘Hurl bold defiance at his throne; and speak
‘As fits a prophet of the living God.’
10
‘I stood, within the emerald bow, and mix'd
‘With fragrant incense, offer'd it to him,
‘The white-rob'd Ancient of eternal days,
‘Even on his golden altar. Forthwith sent
‘To thee, with speed impetuous, swifter far
‘Than travels light's meridian beam, thro realms
‘Of space, studded with worlds, which neither thought
‘Of mortal can conceive, nor numbers count,
‘I come, God's messenger. Not twice the morn
‘Shall dawn, ere all the woes which Salem felt
‘Shall fall on Babylon. This, this is he,
‘Whose streamers now round these devoted towers
‘Wave to the western wind, whom God hath rais'd
‘His instrument of vengeance. Twice hath pass'd
11
‘Cyrus, the Lord's anointed. He shall say,
‘Cities of Judah rise; He shall command,
‘And Solyma's unpeopled streets again
‘Shall throng with busy multitudes. To him
‘In vision, or in dream, shall God reveal
‘His secret purpose; or what other way
‘His power shall mould the victor's ductile will
‘To execute his promise. One day more
‘Shall proud Chaldæa triumph. In that day
‘Let not a knee in Benjamin be bow'd
‘Save to Jehovah. What tho cruel pride
‘Inflame Belshazzar's soul; what tho his wrath
‘Torments unknown prepare; a sign from heaven
‘Shall blast each vain device, a sign obscure,
12
‘Shall beam celestial knowledge on thy soul,
‘And thou shalt read the mystic characters
‘Of dark futurity. Fear not his frown;
‘But in the sight of his assembled peers
‘Hurl bold defiance at his throne; and speak
‘As fits a prophet of the living God.’
He spake, nor ended here; but to the seer
Matters of import high disclos'd, which lay
Deep in the womb of time. ‘And these,’ he cried,
‘Record to distant ages, but conceal
‘My present errand.’ Daniel prepar'd
Obedient answer; but before he spake
Gabriel had furl'd his wings, and now had reach'd
The middle space 'twixt earth, and highest heaven.
Matters of import high disclos'd, which lay
Deep in the womb of time. ‘And these,’ he cried,
‘Record to distant ages, but conceal
‘My present errand.’ Daniel prepar'd
Obedient answer; but before he spake
Gabriel had furl'd his wings, and now had reach'd
The middle space 'twixt earth, and highest heaven.
13
Meanwhile Zorobabel from restless sleep,
If sleep it be, when the tired soul, weigh'd down
By sad affliction, still in dreams renews
The terrors of the day, awak'd, arose.
Zorobabel, than whom among the sons
Of Benjamin, and Judah, none was fired
With zeal more fervent for Jehovah's name,
Or wafted warmer sighs towards Sion's hill.
He, much alarm'd, lest fear should bend the tribes
To forc'd obedience, ran with hasty step
To Daniel. Him in meditation lost,
And deeply musing on the angel's words,
He found, and paus'd awhile. The seer at length
Observ'd his silence, with superior love
Smiling; when thus Zorobabel began.
If sleep it be, when the tired soul, weigh'd down
By sad affliction, still in dreams renews
The terrors of the day, awak'd, arose.
Zorobabel, than whom among the sons
Of Benjamin, and Judah, none was fired
With zeal more fervent for Jehovah's name,
Or wafted warmer sighs towards Sion's hill.
He, much alarm'd, lest fear should bend the tribes
To forc'd obedience, ran with hasty step
To Daniel. Him in meditation lost,
And deeply musing on the angel's words,
He found, and paus'd awhile. The seer at length
Observ'd his silence, with superior love
Smiling; when thus Zorobabel began.
‘O father of the prisoners, for in age,
‘As wisdom, thou surpassest, from that smile
‘At other time encourag'd, I should draw
‘Right happy presage. But what place for hope?
‘Saw'st thou not, when the herald's voice proclaim'd
‘That every knee should bow, saw'st thou not mark'd
‘In each sad face, distrust, and blank despair?
‘Cold is their love of Salem: soon, too soon,
‘To anguish, and tormenting fires will yield
‘Vows made in ease. Belshazzar's darken'd brow
‘With chilling horror smites the dastard herd,
‘Nor did they with more humbled eye behold
‘His sire in all his glory. Tell, o tell,
‘What best may fix their wavering faith, (for ne'er
‘In danger, or distress, thy counsel fail'd,)
‘Lest haply they forget their fathers God,
‘And mix their incense in these rites obscene,
‘Abominations.’ Daniel replies.
14
‘At other time encourag'd, I should draw
‘Right happy presage. But what place for hope?
‘Saw'st thou not, when the herald's voice proclaim'd
‘That every knee should bow, saw'st thou not mark'd
‘In each sad face, distrust, and blank despair?
‘Cold is their love of Salem: soon, too soon,
‘To anguish, and tormenting fires will yield
‘Vows made in ease. Belshazzar's darken'd brow
‘With chilling horror smites the dastard herd,
‘Nor did they with more humbled eye behold
‘His sire in all his glory. Tell, o tell,
‘What best may fix their wavering faith, (for ne'er
‘In danger, or distress, thy counsel fail'd,)
‘Lest haply they forget their fathers God,
15
‘Abominations.’ Daniel replies.
‘Fear not, Zorobabel; for not an hour,
‘No, not one hour beyond the appointed time
‘Shall captive Judah mourn. This he, whose eye
‘Surveys the future as the pass'd, declar'd,
‘And what he speaks, is truth. Tis he, who nam'd
‘The day of our deliverance, and that day
‘Nor man, nor angel, hastens, or retards.
‘I know that he, who wields Chaldæa's sword,
‘Regards not Sion's king.’ “ Sleeps then your God,
“Ye despicable slaves,” the monarch cries,
“Or is he journeying in a foreign land,
“And wait ye his return?” ‘Yet will I rise,
‘And in the sight of his assembled peers
‘Hurl bold defiance at the monarch's head,
‘As fits a prophet of the living God.
‘His vengeance recks not me. For wilt thou say
‘That haughty Babylon, with all his power,
‘Can match with Judah's Lord? Hast thou not heard
‘Of great Nebassar's fate? and who is he,
‘This proud Belshazzar, that shall close the mouth
‘Which God hath open'd? when the anointed Saul
‘Obey'd not heaven's command, did Samuel fear
‘Even on that head, on which his hand had pour'd
‘The imperial oil, to call fierce vengeance down,
‘While his uplifted sword on Gilgal's plain
‘Hew'd Agag to the ground? Could Nathan's voice
‘By well-feign'd parable reprove the lust
‘Of Jesse's son, and from his streaming eyes
‘Call tears of bitter sorrow? read'st thou not
‘In Israel's annals, when the monarch stretch'd
‘His arm to seize the prophet, how it shrunk,
‘Contracted all the nerves? And shall not I
‘Defy this base Assyrian? Haste; collect
‘Our scatter'd brethren; fill their drooping souls
‘With holy courage. With thee Misael
‘Shall go, and Ananiah, whom the proud
‘Chaldæans Shadrach call. O that my friend
‘Good Azariah lived! but he alas!
‘Far from his native country sleeps in peace.
‘In yonder cave beneath that arched rock ,
‘These hands interr'd him; much his pious zeal;
‘Much his authority might now prevail.
‘But go; the day-spring hastens. I the while,
‘Nor fear success, will pour a fervent prayer.
‘The God of Judah will protect his sons.
‘No, not one hour beyond the appointed time
‘Shall captive Judah mourn. This he, whose eye
‘Surveys the future as the pass'd, declar'd,
‘And what he speaks, is truth. Tis he, who nam'd
‘The day of our deliverance, and that day
‘Nor man, nor angel, hastens, or retards.
‘I know that he, who wields Chaldæa's sword,
‘Regards not Sion's king.’ “ Sleeps then your God,
“Ye despicable slaves,” the monarch cries,
“Or is he journeying in a foreign land,
“And wait ye his return?” ‘Yet will I rise,
‘And in the sight of his assembled peers
16
‘As fits a prophet of the living God.
‘His vengeance recks not me. For wilt thou say
‘That haughty Babylon, with all his power,
‘Can match with Judah's Lord? Hast thou not heard
‘Of great Nebassar's fate? and who is he,
‘This proud Belshazzar, that shall close the mouth
‘Which God hath open'd? when the anointed Saul
‘Obey'd not heaven's command, did Samuel fear
‘Even on that head, on which his hand had pour'd
‘The imperial oil, to call fierce vengeance down,
‘While his uplifted sword on Gilgal's plain
‘Hew'd Agag to the ground? Could Nathan's voice
‘By well-feign'd parable reprove the lust
‘Of Jesse's son, and from his streaming eyes
17
‘In Israel's annals, when the monarch stretch'd
‘His arm to seize the prophet, how it shrunk,
‘Contracted all the nerves? And shall not I
‘Defy this base Assyrian? Haste; collect
‘Our scatter'd brethren; fill their drooping souls
‘With holy courage. With thee Misael
‘Shall go, and Ananiah, whom the proud
‘Chaldæans Shadrach call. O that my friend
‘Good Azariah lived! but he alas!
‘Far from his native country sleeps in peace.
‘In yonder cave beneath that arched rock ,
‘These hands interr'd him; much his pious zeal;
‘Much his authority might now prevail.
‘But go; the day-spring hastens. I the while,
18
‘The God of Judah will protect his sons.
He spake, nor did Zorobabel delay,
But, lowly bending, left the reverend seer,
And hasten'd where commanded. What remain'd
Of night, he summon'd Judah's mourning tribes,
While Ananiah, and old Misael
Thus rous'd their souls. ‘And have ye then forgot
‘The calf in Horeb, and the opprobrious vale
‘Of Hinnon, stain'd with blood? Have ye not heard,
‘How great Nebassar, as Belshazzar now,
‘Proclaim'd that at the harp's, and cornet's sound,
‘All knees should bow before that carved mass
‘Metallic, which o'er Dura's spacious plain
‘Darted his evening shade? Defied we not
‘The burning caldron, by the angelic form
‘Conducted thro the flames, that round us curl'd
‘Their sloping points, and fan'd with freshest gales,
‘Disarm'd of all their rage?’ As when by strong
Attrition from the wire electric flame
At once with subtle force thro all around
Shoots its invisible influence; so the words
Of Misael thro every Jewish heart
Darted the sacred fire. No more they fear
The monarch's angry threats; no more they talk
Of tame submission to his power, but swear
Eternal fealty to Judah's God.
But, lowly bending, left the reverend seer,
And hasten'd where commanded. What remain'd
Of night, he summon'd Judah's mourning tribes,
While Ananiah, and old Misael
Thus rous'd their souls. ‘And have ye then forgot
‘The calf in Horeb, and the opprobrious vale
‘Of Hinnon, stain'd with blood? Have ye not heard,
‘How great Nebassar, as Belshazzar now,
‘Proclaim'd that at the harp's, and cornet's sound,
‘All knees should bow before that carved mass
‘Metallic, which o'er Dura's spacious plain
‘Darted his evening shade? Defied we not
19
‘Conducted thro the flames, that round us curl'd
‘Their sloping points, and fan'd with freshest gales,
‘Disarm'd of all their rage?’ As when by strong
Attrition from the wire electric flame
At once with subtle force thro all around
Shoots its invisible influence; so the words
Of Misael thro every Jewish heart
Darted the sacred fire. No more they fear
The monarch's angry threats; no more they talk
Of tame submission to his power, but swear
Eternal fealty to Judah's God.
Now morn with rosy-colour'd finger rais'd
The sable pall, which provident night had thrown
O'er mortals, and their works, when every street,
Strait, or transverse, that towards Euphrates turns
Its sloping path, resounds with festive shouts,
And teems with busy multitudes, which press
With zeal impetuous to the towering fane
Of Bel, Chaldæan Jove; surpassing far
That Doric temple, which the Elean Chiefs
Rais'd to their thunderer from the spoils of war,
Or that Ionic, where the Ephesian bow'd
To Dian, queen of heaven. Eight towers arise,
Each above each, immeasurable height,
A monument at once of eastern pride,
And slavish superstition. Round, a scale
Of circling steps entwines the conic pile;
And at the bottom on vast hinges grate
Four brazen gates, towards the four winds of heaven
Plac'd in the solid square. Hither at once
Come flocking all the sons of Babylon,
Chaldæan, or Assyrian; but retire
With humblest awe, while thro their marshall'd ranks
Stalks proud Belshazzar. From his shoulders flows
A robe, twice steep'd in rich Sidonian hues,
Whose skirts, embroider'd with mæandring gold,
Sweep o'er the marble pavement. Round his neck
A broad chain glitters, set with richest gems,
Ruby, and amethyst. The priests come next
With knives, and lancets arm'd; two thousand sheep,
And twice two thousand lambs stand bleating round,
Their hungry God's repast: six loaded wains
With wine, and frankincense, and finest flour,
Move slowly. Then advance a gallant band,
Provincial rulers, counsellors, and chiefs,
Judges, and princes: from their essenc'd hair
Steam rich perfumes, exhal'd from flower, or herb,
Assyrian spices: last, the common train
Of humbler citizens. A linen vest
Enfolds their limbs; o'er which a robe of wool
Is clasp'd, while yet a third hangs white as snow,
Even to their sandal'd feet: a signet each,
Each bears a polish'd staff, on whose smooth top
In bold relief some well-carv'd emblem stands,
Bird, fruit, or flower. Determin'd, tho dismay'd,
Judæa's mourning prisoners close the rear.
The sable pall, which provident night had thrown
O'er mortals, and their works, when every street,
Strait, or transverse, that towards Euphrates turns
20
And teems with busy multitudes, which press
With zeal impetuous to the towering fane
Of Bel, Chaldæan Jove; surpassing far
That Doric temple, which the Elean Chiefs
Rais'd to their thunderer from the spoils of war,
Or that Ionic, where the Ephesian bow'd
To Dian, queen of heaven. Eight towers arise,
Each above each, immeasurable height,
A monument at once of eastern pride,
And slavish superstition. Round, a scale
Of circling steps entwines the conic pile;
And at the bottom on vast hinges grate
Four brazen gates, towards the four winds of heaven
Plac'd in the solid square. Hither at once
Come flocking all the sons of Babylon,
21
With humblest awe, while thro their marshall'd ranks
Stalks proud Belshazzar. From his shoulders flows
A robe, twice steep'd in rich Sidonian hues,
Whose skirts, embroider'd with mæandring gold,
Sweep o'er the marble pavement. Round his neck
A broad chain glitters, set with richest gems,
Ruby, and amethyst. The priests come next
With knives, and lancets arm'd; two thousand sheep,
And twice two thousand lambs stand bleating round,
Their hungry God's repast: six loaded wains
With wine, and frankincense, and finest flour,
Move slowly. Then advance a gallant band,
Provincial rulers, counsellors, and chiefs,
Judges, and princes: from their essenc'd hair
22
Assyrian spices: last, the common train
Of humbler citizens. A linen vest
Enfolds their limbs; o'er which a robe of wool
Is clasp'd, while yet a third hangs white as snow,
Even to their sandal'd feet: a signet each,
Each bears a polish'd staff, on whose smooth top
In bold relief some well-carv'd emblem stands,
Bird, fruit, or flower. Determin'd, tho dismay'd,
Judæa's mourning prisoners close the rear.
And now the unfolded gates on every side
Admit the splendid train, and to their eyes
A scene of rich magnificence display,
Censers, and cups, and vases, nicely wrought
In gold, with pearls and glittering gems inlaid,
The furniture of Baal. An altar stands
Of vast dimensions near the central stone,
On which the God's high-priest strews frankincense,
In weight a thousand talents. There he drags
The struggling elders of the flock; while near,
Stretch'd on a smaller plate of unmix'd gold
Bleed the reluctant lambs. The ascending smoak,
Impregnate with perfumes, fills all the air.
Admit the splendid train, and to their eyes
A scene of rich magnificence display,
Censers, and cups, and vases, nicely wrought
In gold, with pearls and glittering gems inlaid,
The furniture of Baal. An altar stands
23
On which the God's high-priest strews frankincense,
In weight a thousand talents. There he drags
The struggling elders of the flock; while near,
Stretch'd on a smaller plate of unmix'd gold
Bleed the reluctant lambs. The ascending smoak,
Impregnate with perfumes, fills all the air.
These rites perform'd, his votaries all advance
Where stands their idol; to compare with whom
That earth-born crew, which scal'd the walls of heaven,
Or that vast champion of Philistia's host,
Whom in the vale of Elah David slew
Unarm'd, were minish'd to a span. In height
Twice twenty feet he rises from the ground;
And every massy limb, and every joint,
Is carv'd in due proportion. Not one mine,
Tho branching out in many a vein of gold,
Suffic'd for this huge column. Him the priests
Had swept, and burnish'd, and perfum'd with oils,
Essential odours. Now the sign is given,
And forthwith strains of mixed melody
Proclaim their molten thunderer, cornet, flute,
Harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer, unite
In loud triumphal hymn, and all at once
The King, the nations, and the languages
Fall prostrate on the ground. But not a head,
But not one head in all thy faithful bands,
O Judah, bows. As when the full-orb'd moon,
What time the reaper chaunts his harvest song,
Rises behind some horizontal hill
Flaming with reddest fire; still, as she moves,
The tints all soften, and a yellower light
Gleams thro the ridges of a purple cloud:
At length, when midnight holds her silent reign,
Chang'd to a silver white, she holds her lamp
O'er the belated traveller; so thy face,
Belshazzar, from the crimson glow of rage,
Shifting thro all the various hues between,
Settles into a wan, and bloodless pale.
Thine eye-balls glare with fire. ‘Now by great Bel,’
Incens'd exclaims the monarch, ‘soon as morn
‘Again shall dawn, my vengeance shall be pour'd
‘On every head of their detested race.’
Where stands their idol; to compare with whom
That earth-born crew, which scal'd the walls of heaven,
Or that vast champion of Philistia's host,
Whom in the vale of Elah David slew
Unarm'd, were minish'd to a span. In height
Twice twenty feet he rises from the ground;
And every massy limb, and every joint,
24
Tho branching out in many a vein of gold,
Suffic'd for this huge column. Him the priests
Had swept, and burnish'd, and perfum'd with oils,
Essential odours. Now the sign is given,
And forthwith strains of mixed melody
Proclaim their molten thunderer, cornet, flute,
Harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer, unite
In loud triumphal hymn, and all at once
The King, the nations, and the languages
Fall prostrate on the ground. But not a head,
But not one head in all thy faithful bands,
O Judah, bows. As when the full-orb'd moon,
What time the reaper chaunts his harvest song,
Rises behind some horizontal hill
25
The tints all soften, and a yellower light
Gleams thro the ridges of a purple cloud:
At length, when midnight holds her silent reign,
Chang'd to a silver white, she holds her lamp
O'er the belated traveller; so thy face,
Belshazzar, from the crimson glow of rage,
Shifting thro all the various hues between,
Settles into a wan, and bloodless pale.
Thine eye-balls glare with fire. ‘Now by great Bel,’
Incens'd exclaims the monarch, ‘soon as morn
‘Again shall dawn, my vengeance shall be pour'd
‘On every head of their detested race.’
He spake, and left the fane with hasty step
Indignant. Him a thousand lords attend,
The minions of his court. And now they reach
The stately palace. In a spacious hall,
From whose high roof seven sparkling lustres hang,
Round the perpetual board high sophas rang'd
Receive the gallant chiefs. The floor is spread
With carpets, work'd in Babylonia's looms,
Exquisite art; rich vessels carv'd in gold,
In silver, and in ivory, beam with gems.
'Midst these is plac'd whate'er of massy plate,
Or holy ornament, Nebassar brought
From Sion's ransack'd temple; lamps, and cups,
And bowls, now sparkling with the richest growth
Of Eastern vineyards. On the table smoaks
All that can rouse the languid appetite,
Barbaric luxury. Soft minstrels round
Chaunt songs of triumph to symphonious harps.
Propt on a golden couch Belshazzar lies,
While on each side fair slaves of Syrian race
By turns solicit with some amorous tale
The monarch's melting heart. ‘ Fill me,’ he cries,
‘That largest bowl, with which the Jewish slaves
‘Once deck'd the altar of their vanquish'd God.
‘Never again shall this capacious gold
‘Receive their victim's blood: Henceforth the kings
‘Of Babylon, oft as this feast returns,
‘Shall crown it with rich wine, nectareous draught.
‘Fill high the foaming goblet; rise, my friends;
‘And as I quaff the cup, with loud acclaim
‘Thrice hail to Bel.’ They rose; when all at once
Such sound was heard, as when the roaring winds
Burst from their cave, and with impetuous rage
Sweep o'er the Caspian, or the Chronian deep.
O'er the devoted walls the gate of heaven
Thunder'd, an hideous peal; and lo! a cloud
Came darkening all the banquet, whence appear'd
A hand, (if hand it were, or airy form,
Compound of light, and shade,) on the adverse wall
Tracing strange characters. Belshazzar saw,
And trembled: from his lips the goblet fell:
He look'd again; perhaps it was a dream;
Thrice, four times did he look; and every time
Still plainer did the mystic lines appear,
Indelible. Forthwith he summons all
The wise Chaldæans, who by night consult
The starry signs, and in each planet read
The dark decrees of fate. Silent they stand;
Vain are their boasted charms. With eager step
Merodach's royal widow hastes to cheer
Her trembling son. ‘O king, for ever live;
‘Why droops thy soul;’ she cries? ‘what tho this herd
‘Of sage magicians own their vanquish'd art,
‘Know'st thou not Daniel? In his heart resides
‘The spirit of holy Gods; 'twas he who told
‘Thy father strange events, and terrible;
‘Nor did Nebassar honour one like him
‘Thro all his spacious kingdom. He shall soon
‘Dispell thy doubts, and all thy fears allay.’
She spake, and with obeysance low retir'd.
Indignant. Him a thousand lords attend,
26
The stately palace. In a spacious hall,
From whose high roof seven sparkling lustres hang,
Round the perpetual board high sophas rang'd
Receive the gallant chiefs. The floor is spread
With carpets, work'd in Babylonia's looms,
Exquisite art; rich vessels carv'd in gold,
In silver, and in ivory, beam with gems.
'Midst these is plac'd whate'er of massy plate,
Or holy ornament, Nebassar brought
From Sion's ransack'd temple; lamps, and cups,
And bowls, now sparkling with the richest growth
Of Eastern vineyards. On the table smoaks
All that can rouse the languid appetite,
Barbaric luxury. Soft minstrels round
27
Propt on a golden couch Belshazzar lies,
While on each side fair slaves of Syrian race
By turns solicit with some amorous tale
The monarch's melting heart. ‘ Fill me,’ he cries,
‘That largest bowl, with which the Jewish slaves
‘Once deck'd the altar of their vanquish'd God.
‘Never again shall this capacious gold
‘Receive their victim's blood: Henceforth the kings
‘Of Babylon, oft as this feast returns,
‘Shall crown it with rich wine, nectareous draught.
‘Fill high the foaming goblet; rise, my friends;
‘And as I quaff the cup, with loud acclaim
‘Thrice hail to Bel.’ They rose; when all at once
Such sound was heard, as when the roaring winds
28
Sweep o'er the Caspian, or the Chronian deep.
O'er the devoted walls the gate of heaven
Thunder'd, an hideous peal; and lo! a cloud
Came darkening all the banquet, whence appear'd
A hand, (if hand it were, or airy form,
Compound of light, and shade,) on the adverse wall
Tracing strange characters. Belshazzar saw,
And trembled: from his lips the goblet fell:
He look'd again; perhaps it was a dream;
Thrice, four times did he look; and every time
Still plainer did the mystic lines appear,
Indelible. Forthwith he summons all
The wise Chaldæans, who by night consult
The starry signs, and in each planet read
29
Vain are their boasted charms. With eager step
Merodach's royal widow hastes to cheer
Her trembling son. ‘O king, for ever live;
‘Why droops thy soul;’ she cries? ‘what tho this herd
‘Of sage magicians own their vanquish'd art,
‘Know'st thou not Daniel? In his heart resides
‘The spirit of holy Gods; 'twas he who told
‘Thy father strange events, and terrible;
‘Nor did Nebassar honour one like him
‘Thro all his spacious kingdom. He shall soon
‘Dispell thy doubts, and all thy fears allay.’
She spake, and with obeysance low retir'd.
‘Then be it so; haste, Arioch, lead him here,’
Belshazzar cries; ‘if he interpret right,
‘Even tho my soul in just abhorrence holds
‘His hated race, I will revoke their doom,
‘And shower rich honours on their prophet's head.’
Belshazzar cries; ‘if he interpret right,
‘Even tho my soul in just abhorrence holds
30
‘And shower rich honours on their prophet's head.’
Nor long he waited, when with graceful step,
And awe-commanding eye, solemn and slow,
As conscious of superior dignity,
Daniel advanc'd. Time o'er his hoary hair
Had shed his whitest snows. Behind him stream'd
A mantle, ensign of prophetic powers,
Like that, with which inspir'd Elisha smote
The parting waters, what time on the bank
Of Jordan from the clouds a fiery car
Descended, and by flaming coursers drawn
Bore the sage Tishbite to celestial climes,
Maugre the gates of death. A wand he bore,
That wand, by whose mysterious properties
The shepherd of Horeb call'd the refluent
waves
O'er Pharoah, and his host, with which he struck
The barren flint, when from the riven cliff
Gush'd streams, and water'd all the thirsty tribes
Of murmuring Israel. Thro many an age
Within the temple's unapproached veil,
Fast by the rod, which bloom'd o'er Aaron's name,
Still did the holy relic rest secure.
At length, when Babylonia's arms prevail'd,
Seraiah sav'd it from the flaming shrine,
With all the sacred wardrobe of the priest,
And bore it safe to Riblah. Dying there
The priest bequeath'd the sacred legacy
To Daniel. He, when summon'd to explain
As now, God's dark decrees, in his right hand
Brandish'd the mystic emblem. ‘Art thou he,
‘Art thou that Daniel, whom Nebassar brought
‘From Salem, whom the vanquish'd tribes adore,
‘In wisdom excellent? Look there, look there;
‘Read but those lines,’ the affrighted monarch cries,
‘ And cloath'd in scarlet wear this golden chain,
‘The third great ruler of my spacious realm.’
And awe-commanding eye, solemn and slow,
As conscious of superior dignity,
Daniel advanc'd. Time o'er his hoary hair
Had shed his whitest snows. Behind him stream'd
A mantle, ensign of prophetic powers,
Like that, with which inspir'd Elisha smote
The parting waters, what time on the bank
Of Jordan from the clouds a fiery car
Descended, and by flaming coursers drawn
Bore the sage Tishbite to celestial climes,
Maugre the gates of death. A wand he bore,
That wand, by whose mysterious properties
31
O'er Pharoah, and his host, with which he struck
The barren flint, when from the riven cliff
Gush'd streams, and water'd all the thirsty tribes
Of murmuring Israel. Thro many an age
Within the temple's unapproached veil,
Fast by the rod, which bloom'd o'er Aaron's name,
Still did the holy relic rest secure.
At length, when Babylonia's arms prevail'd,
Seraiah sav'd it from the flaming shrine,
With all the sacred wardrobe of the priest,
And bore it safe to Riblah. Dying there
The priest bequeath'd the sacred legacy
To Daniel. He, when summon'd to explain
As now, God's dark decrees, in his right hand
32
‘Art thou that Daniel, whom Nebassar brought
‘From Salem, whom the vanquish'd tribes adore,
‘In wisdom excellent? Look there, look there;
‘Read but those lines,’ the affrighted monarch cries,
‘ And cloath'd in scarlet wear this golden chain,
‘The third great ruler of my spacious realm.’
He spake, and thus the reverend seer replied.
‘Thy promises, and threats, presumptuous king,
‘My soul alike despises; yet, so wills
‘That spirit, who darts his radiance on my mind,
‘(Hear thou, and tremble,) will I speak the words
‘Which he shall dictate. “Number'd is thy realm ,
“And finish'd: in the balance art thou weigh'd,
“Where God hath found thee wanting: to the Medes,
“And Persians thy divided realm is given.”
‘Thus saith the Lord; and thus those words import
‘Graven by his high behest. See'st thou this wand?
‘Ne'er has it born, since first it left the trunk,
‘Or bud, or blossom: all its shielding rind
‘The sharp steel strip'd, and to dry winds expos'd
‘The vegetative sap; even so thy race
‘Shall perish: from thy barren stock shall rise
‘Nor prince, nor ruler; and that glittering crown,
‘Won by thy valiant fathers, whose long line
‘In thee, degenerate monarch, soon must end,
‘Shall dart its lustre round a stranger's brow.’
‘Thy promises, and threats, presumptuous king,
‘My soul alike despises; yet, so wills
‘That spirit, who darts his radiance on my mind,
‘(Hear thou, and tremble,) will I speak the words
‘Which he shall dictate. “Number'd is thy realm ,
“And finish'd: in the balance art thou weigh'd,
33
“And Persians thy divided realm is given.”
‘Thus saith the Lord; and thus those words import
‘Graven by his high behest. See'st thou this wand?
‘Ne'er has it born, since first it left the trunk,
‘Or bud, or blossom: all its shielding rind
‘The sharp steel strip'd, and to dry winds expos'd
‘The vegetative sap; even so thy race
‘Shall perish: from thy barren stock shall rise
‘Nor prince, nor ruler; and that glittering crown,
‘Won by thy valiant fathers, whose long line
‘In thee, degenerate monarch, soon must end,
‘Shall dart its lustre round a stranger's brow.’
‘Prophet of evils! dar'st thou pour on me
‘Thy threats ill-ominous, and judgments dark,’
Incens'd the monarch cries, ‘Hence to thy tribes;
‘Teach them obedience to their sovereign's will,
‘Or I will break that wand, and rend in twain
‘The mantle of thy God.—Or if these marks
‘Thou wilt erase from that accursed wall,
‘Take half my realm.’ He spake, and fix'd his eyes
Wild staring on the mystic characters:
His rage all sunk at once; his fear return'd
Tenfold; when thus the man of God began.
‘Thy threats ill-ominous, and judgments dark,’
Incens'd the monarch cries, ‘Hence to thy tribes;
34
‘Or I will break that wand, and rend in twain
‘The mantle of thy God.—Or if these marks
‘Thou wilt erase from that accursed wall,
‘Take half my realm.’ He spake, and fix'd his eyes
Wild staring on the mystic characters:
His rage all sunk at once; his fear return'd
Tenfold; when thus the man of God began.
‘Go to the shady vales of Palæstine,
‘Vain prince, or Syrian Lebanon, and tear
‘The palms, and cedars from their native mould
‘Uprooted; then return, and break this rod.
‘Believe me, far more arduous were the task:
‘For it was harden'd in the streams of heaven;
‘And tho not dedicate to sorcerer's arts
‘By magic incantation, and strange spells;
‘Yet such a potent virtue doth reside
‘In every part, that not the united force
‘Of all thy kingdom can one line, one grain,
‘Of measure, or of solid weight impair.
‘Wilt thou that I revoke thy destin'd fate?
‘Devoted prince, I cannot. Hell beneath
‘Is moved to meet thee. See the mighty dead,
‘The kings, that sat on golden thrones approach,
‘The chief ones of the earth. “O Lucifer,
“Son of the morning, thou that vaunting said'st
“‘I will ascend the heavens; I will exalt
“‘My throne above the stars of God, the clouds
“‘Shall roll beneath my feet,’ art thou too weak
“As we? art thou become like unto us?
“Where now is all thy pomp? where the sweet sound
“Of viol, and of harp?’ with curious eye
‘Tracing thy mangled corse, the rescued sons
‘Of Solyma shall say, ‘is this the man
“That shook the pillars of the trembling earth,
“That made the world a desert?’ all the kings,
‘Each in his house intomb'd, in glory rest,
‘While unlamented lie thy naked limbs,
‘The sport of dogs, and vultures. In that day
‘Shall these imperial towers, this haughty queen,
‘That in the midst of waters sits secure,
‘Fall prostrate on the ground. Ill-ominous birds
‘Shall o'er the unwholesome marshes scream for food;
‘And hissing serpents by sulphureous pools
‘Conceal their filthy brood. The traveller
‘In vain shall ask where stood Assyria's pride:
‘No trace shall guide his dubious steps; nor sage,
‘Vers'd in historic lore, shall mark the site
‘Of desolated Babylon.’ Thus spake
The seer, and with majestic step retir'd.
‘Vain prince, or Syrian Lebanon, and tear
‘The palms, and cedars from their native mould
‘Uprooted; then return, and break this rod.
‘Believe me, far more arduous were the task:
‘For it was harden'd in the streams of heaven;
‘And tho not dedicate to sorcerer's arts
‘By magic incantation, and strange spells;
35
‘In every part, that not the united force
‘Of all thy kingdom can one line, one grain,
‘Of measure, or of solid weight impair.
‘Wilt thou that I revoke thy destin'd fate?
‘Devoted prince, I cannot. Hell beneath
‘Is moved to meet thee. See the mighty dead,
‘The kings, that sat on golden thrones approach,
‘The chief ones of the earth. “O Lucifer,
“Son of the morning, thou that vaunting said'st
“‘I will ascend the heavens; I will exalt
“‘My throne above the stars of God, the clouds
36
“As we? art thou become like unto us?
“Where now is all thy pomp? where the sweet sound
“Of viol, and of harp?’ with curious eye
‘Tracing thy mangled corse, the rescued sons
‘Of Solyma shall say, ‘is this the man
“That shook the pillars of the trembling earth,
“That made the world a desert?’ all the kings,
‘Each in his house intomb'd, in glory rest,
‘While unlamented lie thy naked limbs,
‘The sport of dogs, and vultures. In that day
‘Shall these imperial towers, this haughty queen,
‘That in the midst of waters sits secure,
‘Fall prostrate on the ground. Ill-ominous birds
‘Shall o'er the unwholesome marshes scream for food;
‘And hissing serpents by sulphureous pools
37
‘In vain shall ask where stood Assyria's pride:
‘No trace shall guide his dubious steps; nor sage,
‘Vers'd in historic lore, shall mark the site
‘Of desolated Babylon.’ Thus spake
The seer, and with majestic step retir'd.
Aghast the nobles stand; cold drops of sweat,
Cold as the icy dews of death, o'erspread
Belshazzar's face; and ever and anon
His eyes hold converse with the fatal wall
In wild distraction. Nathless he prolongs
The feast, and quaffs the still returning bowl,
Which, like the fabled stream of Lethe, steeps
His senses in oblivion. Dance and song,
With all the dissonance of barbarous mirth
Confound his callous mind; his dread subsides;
Stretch'd on his golden couch the monarch lies
Secure, nor heeds the prophet's warning voice.
Cold as the icy dews of death, o'erspread
Belshazzar's face; and ever and anon
His eyes hold converse with the fatal wall
In wild distraction. Nathless he prolongs
The feast, and quaffs the still returning bowl,
Which, like the fabled stream of Lethe, steeps
His senses in oblivion. Dance and song,
With all the dissonance of barbarous mirth
Confound his callous mind; his dread subsides;
38
Secure, nor heeds the prophet's warning voice.
END OF THE FIRST BOOK.
| Judah restored | |