1 When we, our weary'd Limbs to rest,
Sat down by proud Euphrates Stream,
We wept, with doleful Thoughts opprest,
And Sion was our mournful Theme.
2 Our Harps, that when with Joy we sung
Were wont their tuneful Parts to bear,
With silent Strings neglected hung
On Willow-tress that wither'd there.
3 Mean while our Foes, who all conspir'd
To triumph in our slavish Wrongs,
Musick and Mirth of us requir'd,
"Come, sing us one of Sions's Songs."
4 How shall we tun our Voice to sing?
Or touch our Harps with skilful Hands?
Shall Hymns of Joy to God our King
Be sung by Slaves in foregin lands?
5 O Salem, our once happy Seat!
When I of thee forgetful prove,
Let then my trembling Hand forget
The speaking Strings with Art to move!
6 If I to mention thee forbear,
Eternal Silence seize my tongue;
Or if I sing one chearful Air,
'Till thy Deliv'rance is my Song!
7 Remember, Lord, how Edom's Race,
In thy own city's fatal Day,
Cry'd out, "Her stately Wills deface,
"And with the Ground quite level lay."
8 Proud Babel's Daughter, doom'd to be
Of Grief and Woe the wretched Prey,
Bless'd is the Man, who shall to thee
The Wrongs thou laid'st on us, repay.
9 Thrice bless'd, who with just Rage possest,
And deaf to all the Parents Moans,
Shall snatch thy Infants from the Breast,
And dasht heir Heads against the Stones.
Source: A New Version of the Psalms of David: Fitted to the Tunes Used in Churches #289
