OH Zion! if I cease for thee My earliest vows to pay— If for thy sad and ruined walls I ever cease to pray— If I no more thy sacred courts With holy reverence prize, Or Zion-ward shall cease to turn My ever-longing eyes— Or if the splendor round me thrown Shall touch this Jewish heart, And make me cease to prize thy joy Above all other art,— Oh, may this hand no more with skill E'er touch this sacred string, And may this tongue grow cold in death, Ere I shall cease to sing And pray for Zion's holy courts, Or dare to bow the knee To these poor, blind and helpless gods, Forgetful, Lord, of thee." |