Nigh seated where the river flowes that watreth Babells thankfull plaine which then our teares in pearled rowes Did help to water with theire rayne The thought of Sion bredd such woes, that though our Harpes we did retaine yet useles, and untouched there On willowes onelie hang'd they were. Nowe while our Harpes were hanged soe the men whose captives then wee laie: Did on oure griefes insulting growe, and more to grieve us, thus did saie: You that of musicke make such showe, Come singe us now a Sion laie O no, wee have nor voice nor hand for such a songe in such a land. Though farr I lie sweete Sion hill in forraigne Soile exilde from thee: Yet let my hand forgett his skill if ever thou forgotten be And let my tongue fast glued still unto my roofe, lie mute in mee: If thy neglect within mee spring or ought I doe, but Salem singe. But thou O Lord, shalt not forgett: to quitt the paines of Edoms race: whoe cawseleslie, yet hottlie sett thy holie Cittie to deface. Did thus the bloodie Victors whett what time they entred first the place: Downe, downe with it at anie hand make all platt pais, let nothing stand. And Babilon, that didst us waste, thy selfe shall one daie wasted be: And happie he, whoe what thou haste unto us don, shall doe to thee. Like bitternes shall make thee taste like woefull objects cause thee see, Yea happie whoe, thy litle ones shall take, and dashe against the stones. |