Grant, it forget its art and feeling too,
When I forget to think, to wish, to pray for you!
6For ever tied with dumbness be my tongue,
When it speaks aught that shall not to your praise belong,
If that be not the constant subject of my muse and song.
4
And with like sufferings their spite repay,
Who made our miseries their cruel mirth and scorn,
Who laughed to see our flaming city burn,
And wished it might to ashes turn:
'Raze, raze it,' was their cursèd cry,
'Raze all its stately structures down,
And lay its palaces and temple level with the ground,
Till Sion buried in its dismal ruins lie,
Forgot alike its place, its name, and memory.'
8And thou, proud Babylon! just object of our hate,
Thou too shalt feel the sad reverse of fate,
Though thou art now exalted high,
And with thy lofty head o'ertop'st the sky,
As if thou wouldst the Powers above defy;
Thou, if those powers (and sure they will) prove just,
If my prophetic grief can aught foresee,
Ere long shalt lay that lofty head in dust,
And blush in blood for all thy present cruelty;
How loudly then shall we retort these bitter taunts!
How gladly to the music of thy fetters dance!
5
That shall revenge our mighty wrong;
Then blessed, for ever blessed, be he
Whoever shall return 't on thee,
And grave it deep, and pay't with bloody usury!
May neither agM groans, nor infant cries,
Nor piteous mothers' tears, nor ravished virgins' sighs
Soften thy unrelenting enemies;
