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Chaldea's seers are good,
But here they have no skill; And the unknown letters stood
Untold and awful still, And Babel's men of age
Are wise and deep in lore; But now they were not sage,
They saw-but knew no 'more.
A captive in the land,
A stranger and a youth,
He saw that writing's truth.
The prophecy in view; He read it on that night,
The morrow proved it true.
“ Belshazzar's grave is made,
“ His kingdom pass'd away, “ He in the balance weighed,
“ Is light and worthless clay. “ The shroud, his robe of state,
“ His canopy, the stone; “ The Mede is at his gate!
« The Persian on his throne!" SUN OF THE SLEEPLESS!
SUN OF THE SLEEPLESS! melancholy star!
WERE MY BOSOM AS FALSE AS THOU
DEEMÄST IT TO BE.
WERE MY BOSOM AS FALSE AS THOU DEEM'ST IT
то вE, I need not have wandered from far Galilee ; It was but abjuring my creed to efface The curse which, thou say'st, is the crime of my race.