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Super flumina.
NIGH seated where the river flowes, | |
| That watreth Babell’s thanckfull plaine, | |
| Which then our teares in pearled rowes | |
| Did help to water with their raine: | |
| The thought of Sion bred such woes, | 5 |
| That though our harpes we did retaine, | |
| Yet uselesse and untouched there | |
| On willowes only hang’d they were. | |
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| Now while our harpes were hanged soe, | |
| The men, whose captives then we lay, | 10 |
| Did on our griefs insulting goe, | |
| And, more to grieve us, thus did say: | |
| “You that of musique make such shew, | |
| Come sing us now a Sion lay.” | |
| O no! we have nor voice, nor hand, | 15 |
| For such a song, in such a land. | |
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| Though farre I lye, sweete Sion hill, | |
| In forraine soile, exil’d from thee, | |
| Yet let my hand forgett his skill, | |
| If ever thou forgotten be: | 20 |
| Yea, lett my tongue fast glued still | |
| Unto my roofe lye mute in me, | |
| If thy neglect within me spring, | |
| Or ought I do but Salem sing. | |
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| But thou, O Lord, will not forgett | 25 |
| To quit the paines of Edom’s race, | |
| Who causelessly, yet hottly sett | |
| Thy holy citty to deface, | |
| Did thus the bloody victors whet | |
| What time they entred first the place: | 30 |
| “Downe, downe with it, at any hand, | |
| Make all flatt plaine, lett nothing stand.” | |
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| And Babilon, that didst us wast, | |
| Thy selfe shalt one daie wasted be: | |
| And happy he, who what thou hast | 35 |
| Unto us done, shall do to thee; | |
| Like bitterness shall make thee tast, | |
| Like wofull objects cause thee see: | |
| Yea, happy who thy little ones | |
| Shall take, and dash against the stones. | 40 |
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