PSALM CXXXVII. 1. By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept, when we remembered thee, O Sion. 2. As for our harps, we hanged them up, upon the trees that are therein. 3. For they that led us away captive required of us then a song, and melody, in our heaviness: Sing us one of the songs of Sion. 4. How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land? 5. If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. 6. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; yea, if I prefer not Jerusalem in my mirth. 7. Remember the children of Edom, O Lord, in the day of Jerusalem, how they said, Down with it, down with it, even to the ground. 8. O daughter of Babylon, wasted with misery; yea, happy shall he be that rewardeth thee, as thou hast served us. 9. Blessed be he that taketh thy children, and throweth them against the stones. THE SAME TRANSLATED. Βαβυλῶνος ἐν βήσσαισι ναμάτων πέλας κλαίοντες ἑζόμεσθα, σοῦ φίλη Σίων μεμνημένοι· λύραι δὲ πλησίων ἀπὸ δενδρῶν ἐκρήμνανθ· οἱ δ ̓ ἑλόντες ἤθελον μέλποντας ἡμᾶς δουλίῳ περ ἐν ζυγῷ βαρέας ἀκοῦσαι· “Τῶν Σίωνος ᾄδετε μολπῶν τιν,” εἶπον· ἀλλὰ πῶς τολμῷμεν ἂν ᾆσαι μέλος τὸ θεῖον ἐν ξένῃ χθονί; εἰ γὰρ λαθοίμην πάτρις ὦ φίλη σέθεν, ἡ δεξιὰ λάθοιτο τῶν αὐτῆς τεχνῶν 66 καὶ γλῶσσ ̓ ἐπ ἄκρῳ στόματι προσκολλῷτό μοι, εἴ πού τι χάρμα τὸν σὸν ἐξέλοι πόθον ἀλλ ̓ ὦ Θεὸς μέμνησ ̓ Ἰδυμαῖον λεων, ὡς εἶπον ἡμῶν εἰς πόλιν, “ Πορθεῖτέ νιν, πανώλεθρον πορθεῖτε.” καὶ σύ που φθινεῖς νόσοισι, Βαβυλὼν, καὶ μάλ' εὐδαίμων ἔφυ, ὃς τῶν τόθ' ἡμᾶς τίσεταί σ ̓ εἰργασμένων, ἢ καὶ σὰ ῥίψας τέκνα προσκρούσει πέτραις. FROM MOORE. "Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone, All her lovely companions Are faded and gone; No flower of her kindred, No rosebud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes Or give sigh for sigh. I'll not leave thee, thou lone one, To pine' on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go sleep thou with them : Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead. THE SAME TRANSLATED. Restas ultima suavium rosarum Quas æstas genuit, perisse morens Florem non superesse flosculumve Ullum, qui rubeat rubente tecum Aut suspiria reddat aut odores. Infelix! ego in arbore interire Solam non patiar: jacebis inter Pulchras quæ prope quæ prope dormiunt sorores : Illarum folia indecora circa Putrescunt; tua nunc manu benignâ Decerpens placidum in cubile fundo. So soon may I follow, When friendships decay, And from love's shining circle The gems drop away: When true hearts lie wither'd And fond ones are flown, Oh, who would inhabit This bleak world alone? FROM RICHARD III. I cannot tell, if to depart in silence, |