william billings - marshfield lyrics
when we, our wearied limbs to rest
sat down by proud euphrates’ stream
we wept, with doleful thoughts oppress’d
and sion was our mournful theme
our harps, that when with joy we sung
were won’t their tuneful parts to bear
with silent strings neglected hung
on willow trees that wither’d there
meanwhile our foes, who all conspir’d
to triumph in our slavish wrongs
musick and mirth of us requir’d;
come, sing us one of sion s songs
how shall we tune our voice to sing
or touch our harps with skilful hands?
shall hymns of joy to god our king
be sung by slaves in foreign lands?
o salem, our once happy seat
whеn i of thee forgetful prove
let thеn my trembling hand forget
the speaking strings with art to move!
if i to mention thee forbear
eternal silence seize my tongue;
or if i sing one cheerful air
till thy deliv’rance is my song!
remember, lord, how edom’s race
in thy own city’s fatal day
cried out, her stately walls deface
and with the ground quite level lay
proud babel’s daughter, doom’d to be
of grief and woe the wretched prey;
bless’d is the man who shall to thee
the wrongs thou lay’st on us repay
thrice blest, who with just rage possest
and deaf to all the parents’ moans
shall sn+tch thy infants from the breast
and dash their heads against the stones
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