1 By Babel's streams we sat and wept,
For memory still to Zion clung;
The winds alone our harp-strings swept,
That on the drooping willows hung.
2 There our rude captors, flushed with pride,
A song required to mock our wrongs;
Our spoilers called for mirth, and cried,
Come, song us one of Zion's songs.
3 Not songs but sighs to us belong
When Zion's walls in ruin lie;
How shall we sing Jehovah's song
While in an alien land we die?
4 O Zion fair, God's holy hill,
Wherein our God delights to dwell,
Let my right hand forget her skill
If I forget to love thee well.
5 If I do not remember thee,
Then let my tongue from utterance cease,
If any earthly joy to me
Be dear as Zion's joy and peace.
6 Remember, Lord, the dreadful day
Of Zion's cruel overthrow;
How happy he who shall repay
The bitter hatred of her foe.
The Psalter: with responsive readings, 1912
|Instances (1 - 1 of 1)||Title||First Line||Tune||Tune Key||Author||Meter||Scripture||Date||Subject||Source|
|The Cyber Hymnal #703||By Babel's Streams We Sat and Wept||By Babel's streams we sat and wept||OLIVE'S BROW||Anonymous||LM||Psalm 137||<cite> Sabbath-School Psalmodist</cite> (Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania: United Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1872), page 20|