The memory of these sufferings was the inspiration of this bitter poem.
The text is taken from the prophecy of Jeremiah, Chapter 9, verse 1.
“Oh, that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people.”
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Beyond the hills are mightier hills,
Cloud mountains o’er them rise,
Red, red have flowed their streams and rills,
They’re sown with human woes and sighs.
There long ago in days of old