Poems, on sacred and other subjects and songs, humorous and sentimental: By the late William Watt. Third edition of the songs only--with additional songs |
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| 7. | MELODY SEVENTH. Psalm CXXXVII.
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 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
MELODY SEVENTH. Psalm CXXXVII.
By the banks of Euphrates we sat down and wept,
When we thought of mount Zion, from which we were torn!
On the green waving willows our mute harps now slept,
While they hung on the breeze-shaken poplars forlorn.
When we thought of mount Zion, from which we were torn!
On the green waving willows our mute harps now slept,
While they hung on the breeze-shaken poplars forlorn.
For there did our victors rude call out for gladness,
Even those who our spoilers were sought from us mirth;
Saying, “Strike up the lyre, to dispel pensive sadness;
Give us one of the songs of the place of your birth.”
Even those who our spoilers were sought from us mirth;
Saying, “Strike up the lyre, to dispel pensive sadness;
Give us one of the songs of the place of your birth.”
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Shall our hallow'd harps ring in a far foreign land?
Shall we touch their sweet strings at the will of a foe?
Nay; let us lose rather the skill of our hand
Than waft on their ears Zion's grand sacred flow.
Shall we touch their sweet strings at the will of a foe?
Nay; let us lose rather the skill of our hand
Than waft on their ears Zion's grand sacred flow.
O Jerusalem, if I remember thee not,
Let my tongue sleep in silence, and sound never more;
I'd far rather share in thy now ruin'd lot
Than deny thee for all mighty Babylon's store.
Let my tongue sleep in silence, and sound never more;
I'd far rather share in thy now ruin'd lot
Than deny thee for all mighty Babylon's store.
Remember, O Lord, Edom's ruthless descendants,
In the red day of vengeance, for Zion destroy'd;
Who cried, “Lay in ruins, to spite our contendants,
Their great boasted city, that hath us annoy'd.”
In the red day of vengeance, for Zion destroy'd;
Who cried, “Lay in ruins, to spite our contendants,
Their great boasted city, that hath us annoy'd.”
O daughter of Babylon, doom'd to fell ruin,
The foe soon shall reach thee, our woes to requite;
And to thine own house shall thy children pursue in,
And dash them to pieces before thy dimm'd sight.
The foe soon shall reach thee, our woes to requite;
And to thine own house shall thy children pursue in,
And dash them to pieces before thy dimm'd sight.
| Poems, on sacred and other subjects | |