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.