We ask for donations here just twice a year, and this is one of those times. So, before you hit the "close" button on this box, would you consider a donation to keep Hymnary.org going? Even small amounts help, and they also let us know you're behind us and support what we do.

Last month, our Hymnary website had almost 1 million visitors from around the world: people like you who love hymns. To serve our users well takes money, and we have limited sources of revenue. This fund drive is one such source.

You can make your tax-deductible contribution by sending a check to Hymnary.org at 3201 Burton SE, Grand Rapids, MI 49546, or you can click the Donate button below. From the entire Hymnary.org team, our grateful thanks.

While in sad anguish, Babylon, we sat

While in sad anguish, Babylon, we sat

Author: Thomas Cradock
Published in 1 hymnal

Representative Text

1 While in sad anguish, Babylon, we sat
By thy Euphrates' stream, and mourn'd our fate,
Bewail'd our killing griefs, our galling chains,
And, fruitless, call'd to mind our natal plains,
Those plains, alas! we fear'd to see no more,
What tongue can speak the cruel pangs we bore?
2 Our harps, that wont to tune our maker's praise,
That sweetly answer'd to our joyous lays,
Our idle harps, that long had been unstrung,
Then silent, on the mournful willows hung.
3 'Twas then our tyrants thus their taunts exprest;
(E'en they who laid our glorious Salem waste)
"Now tune your voices to the heav'nly strains
"That us'd to glad your hearts on Judah's plains."
4 Shall Babylon our heav'nly anthems hear,
The praises of our God, with impious sneer?
Shall they with blasphemy our songs deride,
While thus we sing to sooth their barb'rous pride?
5 O dear-lov'd Salem, if I thee forget,
And that bright hill, where fix'd our God his seat;
If I not thee 'bove ev'ry good desire,
May then my hand forget to tune the lyre;
May fail my voice, when I, as wont, wou'd sing
My daily hymns to our Almighty king.
Nor thou, Jehovah, thou forget the wrongs,
That fell from Edoms vile invenon'd tongues;
When with unbated malice they egg'd on
The rageful foe to raze the sacred town.
8 Thou too, O Babylon, thy fate shalt mourn,
And sure destruclion waits thee in thy turn;
Happy is he, who in our cause shall rise,
And well repay thy horrid cruelties!
9 Happy, who, deaf unto the matron's moans,
Shall dash thy tender infants 'gainst the stones!

Source: New Version of the Psalms of David #CXXXVII

Author: Thomas Cradock

Rector of St. Thomas's, Baltimore County, Maryland Go to person page >

Text Information

First Line: While in sad anguish, Babylon, we sat
Author: Thomas Cradock
Language: English
Publication Date: 1756
Copyright: Public Domain


Instances (1 - 1 of 1)
TextPage Scan

New Version of the Psalms of David #CXXXVII

Suggestions or corrections? Contact us


It looks like you are using an ad-blocker. Ad revenue helps keep us running. Please consider white-listing Hymnary.org or subscribing to eliminate ads entirely and help support Hymnary.org.