Harps Hung Up in Babylon

THE HARPS hung up in Babylon,

Their loosened strings rang on, sang on,

And cast their murmurs forth upon

The roll and roar of Babylon:

“Forget me, Lord, if I forget

Jerusalem for Babylon,

If I forget the vision set

High as the head of Lebanon

Is lifted over Syria yet,

If I forget and bow me down

To brutish gods of Babylon.”

Two rivers to each other run

In the very midst of Babylon,

And swifter than their current fleets

The restless river of the streets

Of Babylon, of Babylon,

And Babylon’s towers smite the sky,

But higher reeks to God most high

The smoke of her iniquity:

“But oh, betwixt the green and blue

To walk the hills that once we knew

When you were pure and I was true,”—

So rang the harps in Babylon—

“Or ere along the roads of stone

Had led us captive one by one

The subtle gods of Babylon.”

The harps hung up in Babylon

Hung silent till the prophet dawn,

When Judah’s feet the highway burned

Back to the holy hills returned,

And shook their dust on Babylon.

In Zion’s halls the wild harps rang,

To Zion’s walls their smitten clang,

And lo! of Babylon they sang,

They only sang of Babylon:

“Jehovah, round whose throne of awe

The vassal stars their orbits draw

Within the circle of Thy law,

Canst thou make nothing what is done,

Or cause Thy servant to be one

That has not been in Babylon,

That has not known the power and pain

Of life poured out like driven rain?

I will go down and find again

My soul that’s lost in Babylon.”