JOHN MARTIN  (1789-1854)

ENGLISH PAINTER AND ENGRAVER BORN IN NORTHUMBERLAND

BABYLON HAS FALLEN

FOR HER GREED AND PRIDE.

ALLTHE GLORY STOLEN

AND NOWHERE ELSE TO HIDE.

BLACK WINGS HAVE THE ANGELS

WANDERING IN THE GLADE

THEIR FACES BLANK, LIKE STRANGERS

EXPECTANT IN THE SHADE,

FOR PASSERS BY COMPLYING

TO SHARE A GLASS OF WINE.

FOR MAIDENS ALL ABIDING

TO TAKE PLEASURE IN THE VINE.

THE WARRIORS LOST THEIR FIERCENESS,

THE WOUNDS, THE DRIPPING BLOOD.

THEIR WIFES DEAD, OH! THE STILLNESS!

OR DROWNING IN THE FLOOD.

WHILE SATAN LOOKS AMUSING

THE TERROR, ALL THIS FRIGHT.

SO MANY SOULS ACCUSING

THE GODS FOR LACK OF LIGHT.

THE ANGELS GLIDE IN SILENCE

ABOVE THE CITY WALLS,

LIKE VULTURES, ALL THE VIOLENCE,

IN GESTURES GREAT AND SMALL.

THE QUEEN, THE GREATEST CITY

HAS FALLEN, AND THE BLAST,

LIKE THUNDERS FULL OF PITTY,

ROARING THE GRIEF, AT LAST.

NO GOD HAVE COME TO RESCUE

THE PRIDE OF ALL THIS MEN.

ALIGNED THEY ARE, ALIGNED AND QUEUED

TO LEAVE THEIR SINFUL DEN.

AND MARCHING THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS

WITH WEARY FEET AND COLD,

SEARCHING FOR CLOISTERED FOUNTAINS,

SO DETERMINED AND SO BOLD.

AT LAST TO FIND A HAVEN

BEGINNING ALL THEIR LIFE

AGAIN, LIKE DARKENED RAVENS

THEIR SINS, STAIN AND STRIFE.

WHEN WE SEAT BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON, WEEPING FOR PAST MEMORIES,

PLAYING OUR INSTRUMENTS IN SADNESS, BY THE WATERSIDE,

FOR THOSE OF OUR ENEMIES THAT REQUEST A SIMPLE SONG;

THOSE WHO HAVE TAKEN AWAY OUR BELONGINGS, OUR LOVED ONES.

SAYING 'REJOICE! FOR YOU'RE IN A NEW LAND !'

AND GIVE US ORDERS TO BE GLAD.

SO WE LET BABYLON GO OUT OF OUR THOUGHTS,

BUT WE DON'T PUT JERUSALEM BEFORE OUR GREATEST JOY.

CAN WE SING IN A STRANGE LAND ? BE OUR TONGUES FIXED IN THE ROOF OF OUR MOUTHS

AND OH! DAUGHTER OF DESTRUCTION!

HAPPY IS THE MAN THAT WILL DO TO YOU, WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO US.

FOR WE SEAT BY THE RIVERS OF BABYLON, SINGING OUR SADDEST SONGS.

Poems by E de C