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Our harps we left by Babel's streams, The tyrant's jest, the Gentile's scorn; No censer round our altar beams, And mute our timbrel, trump, and horn. But THOU hast said, the blood of goat, The flesh of rams, I will not prize; A contrite heart, and humble thought, Are mine accepted sacrifice.

"By Babel's streams we Sat and Wept When Zion we thought on; For Grief thereof, we Hang our Harp The Willow Tree upon." Across the bottom of the sampler was embroidered the inscription: "Done by Sarah Ann Fairthorn, May, 1792, in the 16th year of her age."

Must every coral-insect leave his sign On each poor grain he lent to build the reef, As Babel's builders stamped their sunburnt clay, Or deem his patient service all in vain? What if another sit beneath the shade Of the broad elm I planted by the way, What if another heed the beacon light I set upon the rock that wrecked my keel, Have I not done my task and served my kind?

So I went up and down the race and runs, putting in twigs, and thinking of the "willows by the watercourses," and Israel's lament: "By Babel's streams we sat and wept When Zion we thought on, In midst thereof we hanged our harps The willow trees upon."

Gilmore, who struck up Rouse's version of the one hundred and thirty-seventh psalm: "By Babel's streams we sat and wept, When Zion we thought on, In midst thereof we hanged our harps The willow tree thereon. "For there a song required they, Who did us captive bring; Our spoilers called for mirth, and said: 'A song of Zion sing."

Five prisoners had been dismissed, and were already out of his reach: two others were waiting while their captors debated on their fate. Then Hamilton, furious that any of "Babel's brats" should be let go, slew one of these with his own hand, to stay any such unreasonable spirit of mercy, "lest the Lord would not honour us to do much more for him."

Afflicted Israel shall sit weeping down, Fast by the stream where Babel's waters run; Their harps upon the neighbouring willows hung. Nor joyous hymn encouraging their tongue. Nor cheerful dance their feet; with toil oppressed, Their wearied limbs aspiring but to rest. Prior.

From that tree-top, what birded chimes of silver throats had rung. A stone pine; a metallic aviary in its crown: the Bell-Tower, built by the great mechanician, the unblest foundling, Bannadonna. Like Babel's, its base was laid in a high hour of renovated earth, following the second deluge, when the waters of the Dark Ages had dried up, and once more the green appeared.

If they had sung on their sorrowful leaving, "Lochaber no more," the words were now turned by their depressed Highland natures into a wail, and they sang in the words of their old Psalms of "Rouse's" version: "By Babel's streams we sat and wept, When Zion we thought on."

"Mr Hamilton discovered a great deal of bravery and valour, both in the conflict with, and pursuit of, the enemy; but when he and some other were pursuing the enemy, others flew too greedily upon the spoil, small as it was, instead of pursuing the victory; and some, without Mr Hamilton's knowledge, and directly contrary to his express command, gave five of those bloody enemies quarter, and then let them go; this greatly grieved Mr Hamilton when he saw some of Babel's brats spared, after that the Lord had delivered them into their hands, that they might dash them against the stones.