He rose and with a feeble effort shaped His course unto the billows--late escaped: But weakness conquered--swam his dizzy glance, And down to Earth he sunk in silent trance. How long his senses bore its chilling chain, He knew not--but, recalled to Life again, A stranger stood beside his shivering form-- And what was he? had he too scaped the storm? 5. He raised young Julian. "Is thy Cup so full Of bitterness--thy Hope--thy heart so dull That thou shouldst from Thee dash the Draught of Life, So late escaped the elemental strife! Rise--tho' these shores few aids to Life supply, Look upon me, and know thou shalt not die. Thou gazest in mute wonder--more may be Thy marvel when thou knowest mine and me. But come--The bark that bears us hence shall find Her Haven, soon, despite the warning Wind." 6. He raised young Julian from the sand, and such Strange power of healing dwelt within the touch, That his weak limbs grew light with freshened Power, As he had slept not fainted in that hour, And woke from Slumber--as the Birds awake, Recalled at morning from the branchéd brake, When the day's promise heralds early Spring, And Heaven unfolded woos their soaring wing: So Julian felt, and gazed upon his Guide, With honest Wonder what might next betide. Dec. 12, 1814. TO BELSHAZZAR. 1.[ne] Belshazzar! from the banquet turn, Nor in thy sensual fulness fall; Behold! while yet before thee burn The graven words, the glowing wall,[nf] Many a despot men miscall Crowned and anointed from on high; But thou, the weakest, worst of all-- Is it not written, thou must die?[ng] 2. Go! dash the roses from thy brow-- Grey hairs but poorly wreathe with them; Youth's garlands misbecome thee now, More than thy very diadem,[nh] Where thou hast tarnished every gem:-- Then throw the worthless bauble by, Which, worn by thee, ev'n slaves contemn; And learn like better men to die! 3. Oh! early in the balance weighed, And ever light of word and worth, Whose soul expired ere youth decayed, And left thee but a mass of earth. To see thee moves the scorner's mirth: But tears in Hope's averted eye Lament that even thou hadst birth-- Unfit to govern, live, or die. _February_ 12, 1815. [First published, 1831.] STANZAS FOR MUSIC.[315]