Psalm 137
Words: Brady and Tate, A New Version of the Psalms of David
1 When we, our wearied limbs to rest,
sat down by proud Euphrates' stream,
We wept, with doleful thoughts oppressed,
and Zion 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 trees that withered there.
3 Meanwhile our foes, who all conspired
to triumph in our slavish wrongs,
Music and mirth of us required;
"Come, sing us one of Zion's songs."
4 How shall we tune our voice to sing?
or touch our harps with skilful hands?
Shall hymns of joy to God our King
be sung by slaves in foreign 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 cheerful air,
till thy deliv'rance is my song.
7 Remember, Lord, how Edom's race,
in thy own city's fatal day,
cried out, "Her stately walls deface,
and with the ground quite level lay."
8 Proud Babel's daughter, doomed to be
of grief and woe the wretched prey;
Blessed is the man who shall to thee
the wrongs thou lay'st on us repay.
9 Thrice blessed, who with just rage possessed,
and deaf to all the parents' moans,
Shall snatch thy infants from the breast,
and dash their heads against the stones.
