Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917.
By Lord ByronBy the Rivers of Babylon We Sat Down and Wept
(Psalm cxxxvii.)
W
Of Babel, and thought of the day
When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters,
Made Salem’s high places his prey,
And ye, O her desolate daughters!
Were scatter’d all weeping away.
Which roll’d on in freedom below,
They demanded the song; but, oh, never
That triumph the stranger shall know!
May this right hand be wither’d for ever,
Ere it string our high harp for the foe!
O Salem! its sound should be free;
And the hour when thy glories were ended
But left me that token of thee;
And ne’er shall its soft tones be blended
With the voice of the spoiler by me!