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PSALM CXXXVII

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Publishing Committee · BATTLE CREEK, MICH. · May 27, 1858

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 12, No. 2.

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PSALM CXXXVII.

By R. White

By Babel's turbid stream we sat Lamenting our sad fate, When we remembered Zion's walls And sat within her gates.
Our harps we on the willows hung, Nor could we cheerful be With tuneful notes or joyful song, But sorrowful were we.
Our enemies would taunting say, Of Zion let us hear; With cheerful song and joyous mirth Salute our listening ear.
How can we in this foreign land Lift up our cheerful voice To sing the songs of Zion here, Or in the Lord rejoice.
If I forget thee, O my home, May I forgetful be Of the blest power, Jerusalem, To tune my harp for thee.
O Lord, remember Zion's foes, And o'er their guilty head Let floods of thy displeasure flow Till numbered with the dead.
And may thy church by grace divine, Yet raise thy praises higher, And Zion in thy glory shine And all her foes expire. R. WHITE.