Poems (Griffin)/The Captive of Babylon

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THE CAPTIVE OF BABYLON.
NAY, ask it not! The captive's trembling hand
 May never sweep the chords of Judea's lyre
Within 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.

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