Psal 137 (Add. MS. 11744, British Library)
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Transcription
Thinking vpon Euphrates banks to rest
And dround as in obliuions streames our cares
Poore Zion's image state appeard in mourning drest
Wch our Harts cleft perced our soules & eyes disolue'd in teares
Then from our harts did sights so loudly rise
As th'Ayre seem'd troubled at such sad complaints
So great excess of tears flowed from our eys
As swel'd Euphrates streams aboue her bankes
Ours silent luts we on the willows fixt
Whose pale-greene culler as'twere wether beat
Seeing in our faces a like sadness mixt
In dolful murmers our sights did imitate
Then those that vs poore captiues prisoners led
Thinking insults ou'er vs noe wrongs
Your murmurings clamors cease these miscreãs sed
And sing vs some of Zion's holy songs
Tune vs said they those Hymns wchwas
On day of triumph hard in Zion's mount
Whose prayse all other cittys farr surpass
As tallest pines the lowest shrubs surmount
Alas how is iti it possible said wee
These harts shut vp wth greefe can songes send out
And banished thus from Zion how can it be
Those sacred Hymes we here should so polute
Ô Zion should I euer thee forgitt
May I my selfe first in obliuion be
And ye my nimble fingers, whose cuning sett
My lute to warbling voise noe more agree
My tonuge vnto my vouse let stick wth heat
Nor powre here after more words to say
If euer any ioy's to me's more great
Then how thy praises best to shew't I may
Ye pleasures of my soule forsake me when
In to't I other pleasuers else inuite
Saue how to extole thee ô Jeruselem
The first & last of my sole[?] thoughts delight
But Lord remembe in leage how did
Edom instead of nighbours proue as wolues
That dismall day from thee ô Lord's not hid
Ther wrath on vs did powre as raging Bulls
Remember then whose noyse in horred wise
Said kill destroy young old & all
Rase ther foundations Rase it so's ther cries
And bury in ther ruings who by our swords doe fall
Ô Babel fierce ô Tyrants worse then Tygers
Thou'lt haue a day thy works shal be rewarded
Happy those shands shalt be fild full wth rigurs
To giue thee torments whose pitty'was n'er regarded
Happy I say who from thy dried brest
Snaching the new borne babes mercy disdaines
That to the world thy brood be note formore a pest
Shal 'Gainst flinty the Rocks dash out thy children's braines
Modernized Text
Thinking upon Euphrates's banks to rest
And drowned as in oblivion's streams our cares,
Poor Zion's state appeared in mourning dressed
Which pierced our souls and eyes disolved in tears.
Then from our hearts did sighs so loudly rise
As th'air seemed troubled at such sad complaints;
So great excess of tears flowed from our eyes
As swelled Euphrates's streams above her banks.
Ours silent lutes we on the willows fixed
Whose pale-greene colour showed them weather-beat.
Seeing in our faces a like sadness mixed,
In doleful murmurs our sighs did imitate.
Then those that us poor captives prisoners led
Thinking insults o'er us no wrongs,
"Your murmuring clamours cease", these miscreants said,
"And sing us some of Zion's holy songs!
Tune us", said they, "those hymns which was
On days of triumph heard in Zion's mount,
Whose praise all other cities far surpass
As tallest pines the lowest shrubs surmount."
"Alas, how is it possible" (said we)
"These hearts shut up with grief can songs send out,
And, banished thus from Zion, how can it be
Those sacred hymns we here should so polute?"
Oh Zion, should I ever thee forget,
May I my self first in oblivion be!
Ye my nimble fingers, whose cunning set
My lute to warbling, [with] voice no more agree!
My tongue unto my vows let stick with heat,
Nor power hereafter more words to say,
If ever any joys to me's more great
Than how thy praises best to show't I may!
Ye pleasures of my soul forsake me when
In to't I other pleasures else invite
Save how t'extol thee, oh Jerusalem,
The first and last of my thought's delight.
But, Lord, remember in league how did
Edom, instead of neighbours, prove as wolves.
That dismal day from thee, oh Lord, 's not hid.
Their wrath on us did pour as raging bulls.
Remember then whose noise in horrid ways
Said, "Kill! Destroy young, old and all!
Raze their foundations, raze it!", so's their cries,
"And bury in their ruins who by our swords do fall!"
Oh Babel fierce, oh tyrants worse than tigers,
Thou'lt have a day thy works shall be rewarded!
Happy those hands filled full with rigours
To give thee torments who pity ne'er regarded.
Happy, I say, who from thy dried breast
Snatching the new-born babes mercy disdain,
That to the world thy brood be no more a pest
Shall 'gainst the rocks dash out thy children's brains.
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