Poems (Griffin)/The Captive of Babylon

​
THE CAPTIVE OF BABYLON.
NAY, ask it not! The captive's trembling hand May never sweep the chords of Judea's lyreWithin this dreary, desecrated land, Where to the true God burns no altar's fire.
No! let the harp of David still be hung Upon the willows of those Chaldean plains;And be its silvery chords for aye unstrung, While suffering Israel groans in servile chains.
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.