Charles H. Spurgeon on Psalms 137:1

Whole Psalm. Observe that this very Psalm in which the question is asked, "How can we sing?" is itself a song, one of the Lord's songs, still. Nothing can be more sad, more desponding. It speaks of weeping in the remembrance of Zion; it speaks of harps hung upon the willows by exiles who have no heart to use them; and yet the very telling of these sorrows, of this incapacity for song, is a song still. We chant it in our congregations now, hundreds and thousands of years after its composition, as one of the Church's melodies, as one of the Lord's songs. It gives us a striking example of the variety, of the versatility of worship, even in that department which might seem to be all joyous, all praise. The very refusal to sing may be itself a song. Any real utterance of good thoughts, whether they be thoughts of gladness or thoughts of sorrow, may be a true hymn, a true melody for the congregation, even though it may not breathe at every moment the very thought of all the worshippers. "How shall we sing?" is itself a permanent hymn, an inspired song, for all the churches. —C. J. Vaughan.

Whole Psalm. This Psalm is composed of two parts. The first is, an heavy complaint of the church, unto Ps 137:7. The other is an heavy imprecation and a prophetical denunciation against the enemies of the church, unto the end of the Psalm. —Robert Rollock.

Whole Psalm. What a wonderful mixture is the Psalm of soft melancholy and fiery patriotism! The hand which wrote it must have known how to smite sharply with the sword, as well as how to tune the harp. The words are burning words of a heart breathing undying love to his country, undying hate to his foe. The poet is indeed

"Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn,

The love of love." —J. J. Stewart Perowne.

Whole Psalm. Several of the Psalms obviously refer to the time of the Babylonian captivity...The captives' mournful sentiments of pensive melancholy and weary longing during its long and weary continuance constitute the burden of the hundred and thirty-seventh. It was probably written by some gifted captive Levite at the time. Some suppose it to have been composed by Jeremiah, the prophet of tears, and sent to his countrymen in the land of their exile, in order to awaken fond memories of the past and sustain a lively hope for the future; and certainly the ode is worthy even of his pen, for it is one of the sweetest, most plaintive, and exquisitely beautiful elegies in any language. It is full of heart melting, tear bringing pathos. The moaning of the captive, the wailing of the exile, and the sighing of the saints are heard in every line. —W. Ormiston, in "The Study," 1874.

Whole Psalm. Here,

1. The melancholy captives cannot enjoy themselves, Ps 137:1-2.

2. They cannot humour their proud oppressors, Ps 137:3-4.

3. They cannot forget Jerusalem, Ps 137:5-6.

4. They cannot forget Edom and Babylon, Ps 137:7-9. —Matthew Henry.

By the rivers of Babylon. The canals of Babylon itself, probably (comp. Ps 137:2.) —William Kay.