etasticforthelord

Exiles Lament

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By the waters of Babylon,
The place where we sat down and wept;
When we had remembered Zion,
The place considered God’s concept.

The willows hung like harps thereof,
Required songs by the captors;
Songs of merriment and for love,
Songs of Zion for tormentors.

How shall we sing unto the Lord,
Of a song in a foreign land;
I cannot let it be ignored,
I’m surrounded by sinking sand.

If I forget Jerusalem,
Let my right hand forget its skill;
Then may the Lord go and condemn,
No longer in having free will.

If I do not remember You,
The roof of my mouth my tongue cleaves;
Above my highest joy is true,
Into Heaven that my soul leaves.

Copyright © 2026 Richard Newton Sherrer

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