Thomas Aird Poems
The lights of joy at midnight hour
Were up in ancient Babylon.
Beauty and Pleasure, Pride and Power,
Were gathered round Belshazzar's Throne.
In farther halls the dance went on,
A pomp of circling peers was nigh;
Yet sate the King as if alone,
In boding gloom, he knew not why.
That midnight hour, forth came a Hand
And wrote along the darkened wall.
In fiery rows the letters stand,
And flaming out the King appal.
From round him, like a garment, tall
The princely heads, awed to the earth.
The Horror runs from hall to hall,
Devouring up the distant ...
These juvenile lines were written on hearing the death of the poet.
A sunburst of heaven
Smote that Mountain of Wonder,
With its summit all riven
In the ranges of thunder:
The seat of the mighty,
The bards of old name;
How glad and how bright aye,