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The Little Book of Modern Verse; a selection from the work of contemporaneous American poets by Unknown
page 86 of 283 (30%)
In the very midst of Babylon,
And swifter than their current fleets
The restless river of the streets
Of Babylon, of Babylon,
And Babylon's towers smite the sky,
But higher reeks to God most high
The smoke of her iniquity:
"~But oh, betwixt the green and blue
To walk the hills that once we knew
When you were pure and I was true,~" --
So rang the harps in Babylon --
"~Or ere along the roads of stone
Had led us captive one by one
The subtle gods of Babylon.~"

The harps hung up in Babylon
Hung silent till the prophet dawn,
When Judah's feet the highway burned
Back to the holy hills returned,
And shook their dust on Babylon.
In Zion's halls the wild harps rang,
To Zion's walls their smitten clang,
And lo! of Babylon they sang,
They only sang of Babylon:
"~Jehovah, round whose throne of awe
The vassal stars their orbits draw
Within the circle of Thy law,
Canst thou make nothing what is done,
Or cause Thy servant to be one
That has not been in Babylon,
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