Psal 137 (MS. Fairfax 40, The Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford)
Transcription
Thinking vpon Euphrates bankes to rest
And drowne as in obliuion's streames our cares
Poore Zion's state appeard in mourning dress
Wch peirst our soules & eyes disolud in teares
Then from our harts sighs did so loudly rise
As th'Ayre seem'd troubled att our sad complaint
So great excess of teares flowd from our eyes
As swelld Euphrates streames aboue her bankes
Ours silent Lutes we on the willowes fixt
Whose pale-greene-couler shewd thẽ wetherbett
Seeing in our faces a like sadness mixt
In dolefull noyse our sighs did imitate
Those that vs poore captiues prisoners ledd
Thinkinge insultsīgs on ^o're^ vs noe wrongs
Your murmuring clamors cease thes miscrents sed
And singe vs some of Zion's holy songes
Tune vs said they those lofty Hymns that was
On days of triumph hard in Zions mount
Whose prayse all other Cityes farr surpass
As tallest pines the lowest shrubs surmount
Alas how is itt possible (said wee)
Harts clos'd vp wth greefe can songs send out
And banish'd thus from Zion how can itt be
Those sacred Hymns we here should soe polute
O Zion should I euer thee forgitt
May I my selfe first in obliuion bee
And ye my nimble fingers, whose cuñing sett
My Lute to warbling voyce noe more agree
My tongue vnto my mouth let stick wth heate
Nor powre hereafter more words to phrayse
If euer any ioys to me's more great
Then how best I may set forth thy prayse
Ye pleasures of my soule forsake me when
In to't I other pleasures else inuite
Saue how t'extoll thee o Jerusalem
The first & last of all my thoughts delight
But Lord remember how (combined) did
Edom instead of nighbours proue as wolues
That dismall day from thee o Lords not hidd
Ther wrath on vs did powre as raging Bulls
Remember how they in insulting pride
Said Kill distroy the young old & all
Raze ther foundations raze itt soe they cry'd
That they in th'ruings may find ther buriall
O Babel fierce o Tirants worse then Tygers
Thou' hast a dady thy workes shal be rewarded
Happy those hands fild full wth uttmost rigores
To giue thee sorrow woe that pitty ne're regarded
Happy I say who from thy dried brest
Snatching the new-borne babes mercy disdaine
That to the world they be noe more a pest
Shal gainst the Rockes dash out thy childrens braines
Modernized Text
Thinking upon Euphrates's banks to rest
And drown as in oblivion's streams our cares,
Poor Zion's state appeared in mourning dress
Which pierced our souls and eyes disolved in tears.
Then from our hearts sighs did so loudly rise
As th'air seemed troubled at our sad complaint;
So great excess of tears flowed from our eyes
As swelled Euphrates's streams above her banks.
Ours silent lutes we on the willows fixed
Whose pale-green-colour showed them weather-beat.
Seeing in our faces like sadness mixed,
In doleful noise our sighs did imitate,
Those that us poor captives prisoners led
Thinking insultings o'er us no wrongs,
"Your murmuring clamours cease", these miscreants said,
"And sing us some of Zion's holy songs!
Tune us", said they, "those lofty hymns that was
On days of triumph heard in Zion's mount,
Whose praise all other cities far surpass
As tallest pines the lowest shrubs surmount."
"Alas, how is it possible" (said we)
"Hearts closed up with grief can songs send out,
And, banished thus from Zion, how can it be
Those sacred hymns we here should so polute?"
Oh Zion, should I ever thee forget,
May I my self first in oblivion be!
Ye my nimble fingers, whose cunning set
My lute to warbling, [with] voice no more agree!
My tongue unto my mouth let stick with heat,
Nor power hereafter more words to phrase,
If ever any joys to me's more great
Than how best I may set forth thy praise!
Ye pleasures of my soul forsake me when
In to't I other pleasures else invite
Save how t'extol thee, oh Jerusalem,
The first and last of all my thought's delight.
But, Lord, remember how (combinéd) did
Edom, instead of neighbours, prove as wolves.
That dismal day from thee, oh Lord, 's not hid.
Their wrath on us did pour as raging bulls.
Remember how they in insulting pride
Said, "Kill! Destroy the young, old and all!
Raze their foundations, raze it!", so they cried,
"That they in th'ruin may find ther burial!"
Oh Babel fierce, oh tyrants worse than tigers,
Thou hast a day thy works shall be rewarded!
Happy those hands filled full with utmost rigours
To give thee woe that pity ne'er regarded.
Happy, I say, who from thy dried breast
Snatching the new-born babes mercy disdain,
That to the world they be no more a pest
Shall 'gainst the rocks dash out thy children's brains.
