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:
And hung them on the willow trees,
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 sing
The 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 walls
Unto 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.
10
Ans as the cruel hands have dash'd
Our babes against the stones:
Happy the man that does the same
Unto thy little ones.
