Page:Poems Schiller.djvu/77

And ere the morn's brilliance
 Made Luna's light wane,
The royal Belshazzar
 Was marked with the slain.

Then claim not the future,
 O proud heart of mine,
For only the present
 Thou mayest call thine.

To-morrow may find thee
 All pulseless and cold,
Or the prey of an anguish
 Too deep to be told.
June, 1870.