University of Virginia Library

Psalm 137.

[By Babel streams, exil'd from Contri deer]

By Babel streams, exil'd from Contri deer,
As doun we sate, a sad dismaied crue;
Ah, Sions wrongs to pensive mynds appear,
Sions, whom now our eys no more should vieu.
Wee wept: and trees that saw our tears abound,
Hang'd up those harps which wont our ioys resound.
THEN scornful Lords, who Sions towrs had fir'd,
Gods Temple raz'd, and vs to thraldom seaz'd;
In anguish, mirth; in tears, a song requir'd;
And with som Hymn of Sion must be pleaz'd.
Should hymns divine to ears profane be song?
Can Sions Psalms to Babels coasts belong?
O SION fair! and Gods elected seat,
(Where envi earst, but piti now may ground;)
Ierusalem! If thee I e're forget,
If in my ioys thow chiefest be not found:
Let parched tong to withĕring palat growe;
And skilful hand no more his science knowe.
BUT thow, ô Lord, whose right-esteeming ey
Ierusalems last traveils did behold;
Let Edoms malice never covĕred ly,
Which cruel mouths did strangely then unfold.
Their cursed cry record in heavĕnli ear;
Raze, raze hir clean; till loweëst stone appear.
AND Babel, thow, who Sions bane hast wrought;
Ne sacred Temple spar'dst with fire to burn;
Shalt see thy self to same destructiŏn brought:
And blessed they, who thee the like return.
Yea blessed they, who take thy cursed seed,
With dasht-out brains the crying stones to feed.