 | The Book of Psalms in English Metre |  |
Psalm CXXXVII.
1
With pensive heart, in Babylon,By mournful rivers side,
We sat, and on our Zion thought,
Till tears began to slide.
2
Our pleasant harps we laid aside,As useless in our grief:
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Despairing of relief.
3
Then they to whom we prisoners were,Did thus deriding say.
Come sing us one of Zion's songs,
And on your musick play.
4
Alas, said we, how can we singThe songs that you demand;
When we are in captivity,
And banish'd from our land?
5
No, no, my dear Jerusalem,Since thou art lost and gone:
'Tis time my hand should lose her skill
To play as she had done.
6
'Tis time my tongue should silent be,And from all mirth refrain,
Until the day she sings for joy
That thou art built again.
7
Remember Edom's sons, O Lord,Who in that dismal day,
On which our city taken was,
Did thus cry out and say.
8
Down with her quite, and raise her wallsUnto the very ground:
That so her name and memory
May never more be found.
9
O Babylon, for ruine mark'd,The time will shortly be,
When just as thou hast done by us,
So men shall do by thee.
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10
Ans as the cruel hands have dash'dOur babes against the stones:
Happy the man that does the same
Unto thy little ones.
| The Book of Psalms in English Metre | |