Proud Babylon! Thou saw'st us weep; br Euphrates, as he pass'd along, br Saw, on his Banks, the Sacred Throng br A heavy, solemn Mourning keep. br Sad Captives to thy Sons, and Thee, br When nothing but our Tears were Free! br br A Song of Sion they require, br And from the neighb'ring Trees to take br Each Man his dumb, neglected Lyre, br And chearful Sounds on them awake: br But chearful Sounds the Strings refuse, br Nor will their Masters Griefs abuse. br br How can We, Lord, thy Praise proclaim, br Here, in a strange unhallow'd Land! br Lest we provoke them to Blaspheme br A Name, they do not understand; br And with rent Garments, that deplore br Above whate'er we felt before.