Classic Poem

By the waters of Babylon we sat downe and weapte, when we
remembred the, O Syon. As for our harpes, we hanged them up
upon the trees, that are therein. For they that led us awaye captyve,
required of us then a songe and melody in our hevynes: synge us
one of the songes of Sion. How shall we synge the Lordes songe in
a straunge lande. If I forget the, O Jerusalem, let my right hande
be forgotten. If I do not remembre the, let my tongue cleve to the
rofe of my mouth: yee yf I preferre not Jerusalem in my myrth.
Remembre the chyldren of Edom, O Lorde, in the daye of
Jerusalem, how they sayd: downe with it, downe with it: even to
the grounde. O daughter of Babylon, thou shalt come to misery thy
selfe: yee, happye shall he be, that rewardeth the as thou hast
served us. Blessed shall he be, that taketh thy chyldren, and
throweth them agaynst the stones.