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.
Source: Psalter Hymnal (Red): doctrinal standards and liturgy of the Christian Reformed Church #301
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