I. <br />We sate down and wept by the waters <br />Of Babel, and thought of the day <br />When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters, <br />Made Salem's high places his prey; <br />And ye, oh her desolate daughters! <br />Were scattered all weeping away. <br /> <br />II. <br />While sadly we gazed on the river <br />Which roll'd on in freedom below, <br />They demanded the song; but, oh never <br />That triumph the stranger shall know! <br />May this right hand be withered for ever, <br />Ere it string our high harp for the foe! <br /> <br />III. <br />On the willow that harp is suspended, <br />Oh Salem! its sound should be free; <br />And the hour when thy glories were ended <br />But left me that token of thee: <br />And ne'er shall its soft tones be blended <br />With the voice of the spoiler by me!<br /><br />George Gordon Byron<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-sate-down-and-wept-by-the-waters/
