The Feast Of The Passions.

It wouldn't be fair to Belshazzar         When speaking of madness and mirth,     To draw from his revel a moral         For conscienceless sin in the earth,     For 'tis certain the King of Chaldea         Took note of the hand on the wall,     But here at the Feast of the Passions         We never take heed at all.     The same gods grin at the banquet--         The idols of silver and gold--     While we drink from the cups of the Temple         As they did in the days of old,     But the finger of God is unheeded,         His warning misunderstood,     As "Mene" is written in lightning,         And "Tekel" inscribed in blood.     No lesson of Nebuchadnezzar         Turned out with his swinish kin     Creeps in like a baneful vision         At the Babylonian din;     We have stilled the tongue of our Daniel         Lest sudden he rise and cry:     "Behold! thy kingdom is numbered;         This night shall Belshazzar die!"     So it wouldn't be just to Belshazzar,         When speaking of madness and mirth,     To hold up his feast as a warning         To conscienceless sin in the earth,     For 'tis certain the King of Chaldea         Took note of the hand on the wall,     But here at the Feast of the Passions         We never take heed at all.