Psalm Cxxxvii. Poem by Henry Alford

By Babylon streams we sat us down and wept,
When we remembered Zion mournfully;
As for our harps, we hanged them up
Upon the willow trees that grew thereby.

Then they that led us captive asked of us
A song, and melody in our dreary day;
Come sing us one of Zion's songs--
How can we sing the Lord's song far away?

If I forget thee, O Jerusalem,
Let my right hand forget her best employ;
Let my tongue cleave unto my mouth,
If I prefer not thee to all my joy.

Remember, Lord, remember Edom's sons,
How they stood round and shouted in their mirth,
At the dark day of Jerusalem--
Down with it, down with it, even to the earth.

Daughter of Babylon, thy doom is sealed--
Yea, happy he who deals thee recompense;
And dasheth down upon the stones
With ruthless hands thy helpless innocents.