Classic Poem

Come down & sit in dust
Daughter of Babalon
Come on the ground ye must
Thy throne & power is gone
Daughter of the chaldeans thy race is oer
Thou art the tender & delicate no more

Take millstones & grind meal
Uncover thy fair locks
Bare legs & thighs reveal
For God thy treachery mocks
Pass oer the streams thy nakedness is seen
& shame is oer thee though thou art a queen

Thy inmost shame is seen
Reverse thy every plan
I'll vengance take nor mean
To meet thee as a man
As for our redeemer he feels shame
The holy one of Israel is his name

Sit there in silence now
& into darkness flye
Uncoronet thy brow
Chaldeans daughter sigh
For thou shalt never more be called
Lady of kingdoms thy base power enthralled

I with my people wrath
Did their heritage polute
& in thine hands left both
To make them destitute
Thou shewed no mercey but with heavy stroke
Upon the ancient hast thou laid the yoke

I'm a Lady & forever
Thou saidst it—so depart
Thou remembered not the giver
Nor laid these things to heart
No wickedness on earth can thee defend
Thou ne'er remembered once the latter end

Therefore hear thou this
Thou Lady to pleasures given
That dwelleth careless & amiss
& rests no hope on heaven
Saying ‘I am’ as there was none beside
‘& know no loss of children in my pride’

‘Nor be a widow lone’
Yet these too mournfull things
Shall in a moment reach thy throne
With all that sorrow brings
For all thy devinations shall they come
& leave thy pomp all childless & no home

In wickedness thy trust
Hath said none seeth me
Thy wisdom & thy lust
It hath perverted thee
& thou hast said & felt it in thy heart
There's none beside me—sorsoress depart

Therefore shall evil come
From whence thou shalt not know
All powerless thou to shun the doom
Or to avert the blow
To sudden desolation shalt thou go
& to the ruin which thou shalt not know

With thy enchantments stand
That ever against the truth
The labours of thy sceptered hand
& even known from youth
If profit springs from each liscentious tale
If so be thou with wickedness prevail

With many counsils now
Thou'rt weak & weary grown
Astrollogers may bow
Around thy tottering throne
Stargazers soothesayers let them save or shun thee
From things that surely now shall come upon thee

Behold as stubble they
Before the fire shall burn
Themselves shall pass away
& know not where to turn
They shall not deliver themselves from the power
Of the flame which shall ignite consume & devour

In that desolate charm
There shall not be a fire
Or a coal left to warm
Though through cold they expire
Thus shall they be unto thee & ungrieved
With whom thou hast laboured & revelled & lived

Thy merchants from thy youth
They shall wander one & all
To his quarters & the truth
Shall leave thee more in thrall
Though slave dealers take thee though bondsmen enslave thee
There's none shall be able to shield thee or save thee