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night in Babylon: yet many a beam Of lamps, far-glittering from her domes on high, Shone, brightly mingling in Euphrates' stream, With the clear stars of that Chaldean sky, Whose azure knows no cloud:—each whispered sigh Of the soft night-breeze through her terrace-bowers, Bore deepening tones of joy and melody, O'er an illumined wilderness of flowers; And the glad city's voice went up from all her towers.

But prouder mirth was in the kingly hall, Where, 'midst adoring slaves, a gorgeous band! High at the stately midnight-festival, Belshazzar sat enthroned—There luxury's hand