By the waters of Babylon
  We sit down and weep,
Far from the pleasant land
  Where our fathers sleep;
Far from our Holy Place
  From which the Glory is gone;
We sit in dust and weep
  By the waters of Babylon.

By the waters of Babylon
  The willow trees grow rank:
We hang our harps thereon
  Silent upon the bank.
Before us the days are dark,
  And dark the days that are gone;
We grope in the very dark
  By the waters of Babylon.

By the waters of Babylon
  We thirst for Jordan yet,
We pine for Jerusalem
  Whereon our hearts are set:
Our priests defiled and slain,
  Our princes ashamed and gone,
Oh how should we forget
  By the waters of Babylon?

By the waters of Babylon
  Tho' the wicked grind the just,
Our seed shall yet strike root
  And shall shoot up from the dust:
The captive shall lead captive,
  The slave rise up and begone,
And thou too shalt sit in dust
  O daughter of Babylon.