THE PSALMS of DAVID, PSALM CXXXVII

There we sat down, and wept, by Streams, Which glide by Babel's Walls; While Sion's melancholly Themes, Our mournful Mind recalls. Our Harps, which us'd their Part to bear, When Sion's Songs we sung, On Willow-Trees, that flourish'd there, As useless now we hung. Stern Lords who did us Captive bring, Insulted thus our Wrongs; "Come, take your Harps, and chearful sing "Us, one of Sion's Songs. How can we, Lord, thy Songs repeat, To Aliens, in strange Land? If thee, Ierus'lem, I forget; Her Skill may my Right-hand. My Tongue cleave to my Roof; if I, Of thee, forgetful prove; Or ever entertain a Joy, Ierusalem above. Remember, Lord, how Edom's Sons, In Salem's woful Day, Cry'd, "Rase it, rase the lowest Stones, "And with the Ground it lay. O Daughter of proud Babylon! Whom we are doom'd to see; Happy's the Man, the Wrongs thou'st done To us, returns on thee. Bless'd Man! who, at the high Command, Shall take thy little ones, As thou did'st ours, in cruel Hands, And dash against the Stones.