1.

Where Babylon 's proud water flows,
We fate and wept, while in us rose
The dear remembrance of thy name,
O fair, O lost Jerusalem!
Our silent harps the willows bore,
Whose branches shade th' extended shore,

2.

In haughty triumph thus the Foe
Insulting aggravates our woe:
" Come, tune to mirth your sullen tongue;
" Rise, Hebrew slaves, and give the song;
" Such strains as wont your fane to fill
" On captive Sion 's boasted Hill. "

3.

How shall we yield to the demand?
How, exiles in a heathen Land,
Presume the heav'n-taught song to raise,
And desecrate the hallow'd lays?
Shall Israel 's vanquish'd Tribes employ
Their mournful voice in hymns of joy?

4.

If Sion from my breast depart,
Forget my hand its tuneful art:
Fast to my palate cleave my tongue,
If, when I form my sprightliest song,
Aught to my mirth supply a theme,
But Thou, O lov'd Jerusalem .

5.

Think, Lord, O think, when Sion lay
Abandon'd to the dreadful day,
How, as thy heaviest wrath she tried,
" Down, down, exulting Edom cried,
" Down let the hated City fall,
" And level to the dust her wall. "

6.

Daughter of Babylon , that woe,
Depress'd, consum'd, thyself shalt know,
Which We, dire Murth'ress, found from Thee:
And Blest the Man whom God's Decree
Ordains to lead the slaughter on,
And dash thine Infants on the stone.