A paraphrase on the Book of Job As likewise on the Songs of Moses, Deborah, David: On Four Select Psalms: Some Chapters of Isaiah, and the Third Chapter of Habakkuk. By Sir Richard Blackmore |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
Chap. X.
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| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
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Chap. X.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job |  |
Chap. X.
My constant Woes, such constant Groans create,
That Life's a black, uncomfortable State.
My Soul abhors this Loathsom Lump of Clay,
Longs to be free, to wing to Heav'n its way.
I'll make my moan to give its Sorrow vent,
Else will my Breast be with its Tempest rent.
I cannot smother such Gigantick Woe,
Nor on my raging Grief a Muzzle throw.
I can't forbear, to God I'll thus complain,
As one that's Wicked, do not me Arraign.
Why dost thou let me thus in torment lye,
And thus in vain for Heav'n's Compassion Cry?
Do not thy Servant by uncommon Woes,
To Publique Censure and Reproach expose.
Mankind will Me Condemn, and cry, we know
His Crime's enormous, since his Pain is so.
That Life's a black, uncomfortable State.
My Soul abhors this Loathsom Lump of Clay,
Longs to be free, to wing to Heav'n its way.
I'll make my moan to give its Sorrow vent,
Else will my Breast be with its Tempest rent.
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Nor on my raging Grief a Muzzle throw.
I can't forbear, to God I'll thus complain,
As one that's Wicked, do not me Arraign.
Why dost thou let me thus in torment lye,
And thus in vain for Heav'n's Compassion Cry?
Do not thy Servant by uncommon Woes,
To Publique Censure and Reproach expose.
Mankind will Me Condemn, and cry, we know
His Crime's enormous, since his Pain is so.
Can God Complacence in Oppression take,
And vex his Creatures for the Pleasure's sake?
O, can a God of Mercy cruel grow,
No Pity feel, no tender Passion show?
Can God my Father e'er Unnatural prove,
Shut up his Bowels, and forget to love?
Will he with hostile Force his Sons invade,
Pleas'd to destroy the Works his hands have made?
While he mean time with more auspicious Rays
Shines on the Wicked, and approves their Ways?
Has God an Eye of Flesh, that needs the Light?
Has he, like Man, a Weak imperfect Sight,
That he's so curious in his search, and makes
Such strict enquiry after my Mistakes?
Or are th' Allmighty's days like those of Man,
That in extension scarce exceed a Span?
That he makes haste to punish, on pretence
That Death may interpose for my Defence.
By blacker Crimes than others, thou dost know
I'm not distinguish'd, tho I am by Woe.
Thou know'st that none thy Vengeance can withstand,
Or rescue me from thy Afflicting Hand.
Should'st thou deny me Aid, I am bereft
Of all Assistance, and am hopeless left.
And vex his Creatures for the Pleasure's sake?
O, can a God of Mercy cruel grow,
No Pity feel, no tender Passion show?
Can God my Father e'er Unnatural prove,
Shut up his Bowels, and forget to love?
Will he with hostile Force his Sons invade,
Pleas'd to destroy the Works his hands have made?
While he mean time with more auspicious Rays
Shines on the Wicked, and approves their Ways?
Has God an Eye of Flesh, that needs the Light?
Has he, like Man, a Weak imperfect Sight,
That he's so curious in his search, and makes
Such strict enquiry after my Mistakes?
Or are th' Allmighty's days like those of Man,
That in extension scarce exceed a Span?
That he makes haste to punish, on pretence
That Death may interpose for my Defence.
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I'm not distinguish'd, tho I am by Woe.
Thou know'st that none thy Vengeance can withstand,
Or rescue me from thy Afflicting Hand.
Should'st thou deny me Aid, I am bereft
Of all Assistance, and am hopeless left.
Thy hands have wrought and fashion'd every Part
Of this weak Fabrick with amazing Art:
And now, as if thou didst thy Labour blame,
Wilt thou in pieces dash the curious Frame?
O let but God remember how at first
He form'd my Limbs, and rais'd me out of Dust.
How with stupendous Skill he did convey
My Flame of Life thro' crooked Tubes of Clay.
What need he crush me then with mighty Pain,
When of my self I turn to Dust again?
To him my Parent, I my Being owe,
The Fountain whence precarious Beings flow.
He the prolific Principles infus'd,
From whence the crude Conception was produc'd.
He form'd me when an Embryo in the Womb,
And made my Limbs their proper Shape assume.
He warm'd the heaving Mass with Vital Heat,
Hung in the Breast my Heart, and bid it beat.
He of connected Bones a Bullwark made,
Against the Ills which every way invade.
About the Bones he the strong Sinews wound,
And fenc'd the tender Plant of Life around.
He taught my breathing Lungs to draw the Air,
Which might the Vital Flame within repair.
He made the Veins o'er all the Body stray,
Which Purple Life in winding Streams convey.
He spun the various threads with Art Divine,
Wherewith he weav'd my Flesh, and curious Skin.
He did not only make me Life possess,
But did my Life with sweet Enjoyments bless.
I was with Peace, and with abundance cloy'd,
And long a true Terrestrial Heav'n enjoy'd.
At first he kindled, and he still maintains
The Flame of Life which wanders thro' my Veins.
Sure God remembers, how he has been kind,
And treasures up these Favours in his Mind.
And on his former Love can he reflect,
And me at last, tho' unprovok'd, reject?
Of this weak Fabrick with amazing Art:
And now, as if thou didst thy Labour blame,
Wilt thou in pieces dash the curious Frame?
O let but God remember how at first
He form'd my Limbs, and rais'd me out of Dust.
How with stupendous Skill he did convey
My Flame of Life thro' crooked Tubes of Clay.
What need he crush me then with mighty Pain,
When of my self I turn to Dust again?
To him my Parent, I my Being owe,
The Fountain whence precarious Beings flow.
He the prolific Principles infus'd,
From whence the crude Conception was produc'd.
He form'd me when an Embryo in the Womb,
And made my Limbs their proper Shape assume.
He warm'd the heaving Mass with Vital Heat,
Hung in the Breast my Heart, and bid it beat.
He of connected Bones a Bullwark made,
Against the Ills which every way invade.
About the Bones he the strong Sinews wound,
And fenc'd the tender Plant of Life around.
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Which might the Vital Flame within repair.
He made the Veins o'er all the Body stray,
Which Purple Life in winding Streams convey.
He spun the various threads with Art Divine,
Wherewith he weav'd my Flesh, and curious Skin.
He did not only make me Life possess,
But did my Life with sweet Enjoyments bless.
I was with Peace, and with abundance cloy'd,
And long a true Terrestrial Heav'n enjoy'd.
At first he kindled, and he still maintains
The Flame of Life which wanders thro' my Veins.
Sure God remembers, how he has been kind,
And treasures up these Favours in his Mind.
And on his former Love can he reflect,
And me at last, tho' unprovok'd, reject?
If I am Wicked I thy Vengeance bear,
And if I'm Righteous, still thy Frowns I fear.
Confusion and Despair my Soul Oppress,
Lord, see my Woe, and pity my Distress.
My sad Complaints increase, my Suff'rings grow,
And every Moment propagates my Woe.
As a fierce Lyon o'er the grassy Lawn,
With Hunger urg'd, pursues the flying Fawn;
So dost thou hunt me down by Night and Day,
So dost thou seize, and tear the trembling Prey.
Thou dost my Spirits and my Strength devour,
And mark me out to Celebrate thy Power.
Thou dost thy Judgments and thy Strokes renew,
And my vext Soul with hotter Wrath pursue.
Thou still reviv'st the War, and dost employ
All Arts and Arms thy Creature to annoy.
Did I for this amidst the Living come?
Didst thou for this release me from the Womb?
Oh! that from thence I ne'er had broke away,
Or had expir'd, when first I saw the Day!
For then had I been carried from the Womb,
And laid to Sleep within the silent Tomb.
My Minutes fly, my Days roll on apace,
And hasty Life will soon compleat its Race.
Some Comfort therefore, some short respite give,
And spare a Wretch that soon must cease to Live.
Some hours of Rest, some Intervals bestow,
And for a Moment interrupt my Woe;
Before I'm carried to the Grave beneath,
The Land of Darkness and the Shades of Death:
A Region undiscover'd to the Light,
Th' Imperial Seat of unmolested Night:
A Place secur'd with such a gloomy Mound,
So fenc'd with Walls of solid Darkness round,
That not a streak of Light, no wand'ring Ray
E'er came to view it, or explor'd the Way
To introduce the Foreign Power of Day.
And if I'm Righteous, still thy Frowns I fear.
Confusion and Despair my Soul Oppress,
Lord, see my Woe, and pity my Distress.
My sad Complaints increase, my Suff'rings grow,
And every Moment propagates my Woe.
As a fierce Lyon o'er the grassy Lawn,
With Hunger urg'd, pursues the flying Fawn;
So dost thou hunt me down by Night and Day,
So dost thou seize, and tear the trembling Prey.
Thou dost my Spirits and my Strength devour,
And mark me out to Celebrate thy Power.
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And my vext Soul with hotter Wrath pursue.
Thou still reviv'st the War, and dost employ
All Arts and Arms thy Creature to annoy.
Did I for this amidst the Living come?
Didst thou for this release me from the Womb?
Oh! that from thence I ne'er had broke away,
Or had expir'd, when first I saw the Day!
For then had I been carried from the Womb,
And laid to Sleep within the silent Tomb.
My Minutes fly, my Days roll on apace,
And hasty Life will soon compleat its Race.
Some Comfort therefore, some short respite give,
And spare a Wretch that soon must cease to Live.
Some hours of Rest, some Intervals bestow,
And for a Moment interrupt my Woe;
Before I'm carried to the Grave beneath,
The Land of Darkness and the Shades of Death:
A Region undiscover'd to the Light,
Th' Imperial Seat of unmolested Night:
A Place secur'd with such a gloomy Mound,
So fenc'd with Walls of solid Darkness round,
That not a streak of Light, no wand'ring Ray
E'er came to view it, or explor'd the Way
To introduce the Foreign Power of Day.
Then Zophar did his Speech to Job direct:
Thou dost Prolix Discourses much affect.
Thy Words abound, and roll in Floods along
With mighty noise, but are they therefore Strong?
Shall thy loud Deluge sober Reason drown,
And bear thy Friends, thy kind Instructers down?
Shall thy Devices make us hold our Peace?
Must we not answer, lest we should displease?
Shalt thou with such unsufferable Pride,
Despise thy Brethren, and thy God deride,
And yet, must no Man undertake to blame
Thy faulty Conduct, and expose thy Shame?
For thou hast said, that in th' Allmighty's Sight
Thy Hands are clean, and thy Opinions right.
Would God would interpose, and undertake
This Argument for thy Conviction's sake!
His All-discerning Eye would quickly find
Stains in thy hands; and Errors in thy mind.
If he would Wisdom's hidden Stores expose,
Its awful Depths and Wonders would disclose.
Wonders and Depths of Wisdom yet conceal'd,
Surpassing all which he has e'er reveal'd.
Thou would'st adore his methods, and declare
How much above thy reach his Councels are.
Thou wouldst no more thy rash expressions use,
No more th' Allmighty's Providence accuse.
For of thy Sin he has forgiven part,
Exacting less by far than thy desert.
Thou dost Prolix Discourses much affect.
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With mighty noise, but are they therefore Strong?
Shall thy loud Deluge sober Reason drown,
And bear thy Friends, thy kind Instructers down?
Shall thy Devices make us hold our Peace?
Must we not answer, lest we should displease?
Shalt thou with such unsufferable Pride,
Despise thy Brethren, and thy God deride,
And yet, must no Man undertake to blame
Thy faulty Conduct, and expose thy Shame?
For thou hast said, that in th' Allmighty's Sight
Thy Hands are clean, and thy Opinions right.
Would God would interpose, and undertake
This Argument for thy Conviction's sake!
His All-discerning Eye would quickly find
Stains in thy hands; and Errors in thy mind.
If he would Wisdom's hidden Stores expose,
Its awful Depths and Wonders would disclose.
Wonders and Depths of Wisdom yet conceal'd,
Surpassing all which he has e'er reveal'd.
Thou would'st adore his methods, and declare
How much above thy reach his Councels are.
Thou wouldst no more thy rash expressions use,
No more th' Allmighty's Providence accuse.
For of thy Sin he has forgiven part,
Exacting less by far than thy desert.
Why does thy peevish Folly God Arraign?
Why wouldst thou fix on Providence a Stain?
Can humane Reason such wide Arms extend,
As shall th' Allmighty's Wisdom comprehend?
Let down thy Understanding, try to sound
And search a Deep so vast, and so profound.
Canst thou the Reasons of his Conduct find,
And view the secret Councel of his Mind?
It is as Heav'n insuperably Steep,
Wide as the boundless Ocean, and as deep;
What canst thou do but awful distance keep?
If God from off the Earth a Nation cuts,
If wretched Captives he in Prison shuts;
If he shall give a harrass'd Kingdom ease,
And from his Chains the squallid Slave release,
Who can against him such Objections raise,
As shall detect Injustice in his Ways?
Tho' Man so little knows, is so unfit
In Judgment on his Maker's Ways to sit;
Yet God our Folly and our Rashness knows,
And can our secret Wickedness expose.
He can discover all our guilty Thoughts,
And tho' we hide them, will reveal our Faults.
Tho' thou dost vaunt that thou art free from Sin,
He may discern Hypocrisy within.
Nor stands he unconcern'd, but will chastise
The Wickedness, which he in Man descrys.
And yet this vain, this despicable Wight,
This foolish Creature Man, takes great delight
In being thought divinely Wise, and fit
Th' Allmighty's Deeds to censure or acquit:
Tho' as to things Divine, which most advance
Man's Happy State, he does in Ignorance,
In Headiness and Dullness far surpass
The stupid Offsrping of the wildest Ass.
Why wouldst thou fix on Providence a Stain?
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As shall th' Allmighty's Wisdom comprehend?
Let down thy Understanding, try to sound
And search a Deep so vast, and so profound.
Canst thou the Reasons of his Conduct find,
And view the secret Councel of his Mind?
It is as Heav'n insuperably Steep,
Wide as the boundless Ocean, and as deep;
What canst thou do but awful distance keep?
If God from off the Earth a Nation cuts,
If wretched Captives he in Prison shuts;
If he shall give a harrass'd Kingdom ease,
And from his Chains the squallid Slave release,
Who can against him such Objections raise,
As shall detect Injustice in his Ways?
Tho' Man so little knows, is so unfit
In Judgment on his Maker's Ways to sit;
Yet God our Folly and our Rashness knows,
And can our secret Wickedness expose.
He can discover all our guilty Thoughts,
And tho' we hide them, will reveal our Faults.
Tho' thou dost vaunt that thou art free from Sin,
He may discern Hypocrisy within.
Nor stands he unconcern'd, but will chastise
The Wickedness, which he in Man descrys.
And yet this vain, this despicable Wight,
This foolish Creature Man, takes great delight
In being thought divinely Wise, and fit
Th' Allmighty's Deeds to censure or acquit:
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Man's Happy State, he does in Ignorance,
In Headiness and Dullness far surpass
The stupid Offsrping of the wildest Ass.
If Penitential Groans prepare thy way,
And thou shalt humbly to th' Allmighty pray;
If thou his Lands and Treasure dost restore
(If thou detainest any) to the Poor;
If thou the Cause of Sin wilt not espouse,
But chase it from thy Heart, and from thy House;
Thou shalt to Heav'n thy chearful Face erect,
To Heav'n that does the Innocent Protect.
On strong Foundations stedfast thou shalt stand,
Danger deride, and all thy Fears disband.
As Summer Floods which o'er the Meadows flow
With equal Speed back to their Channel go:
So thy subsiding Sorrows shall retreat,
And thou shalt all thy Misery forget.
Thou shalt dispel with thy prevailing Light,
The Shades and gloomy Horrors of the Night.
Thou shalt emerge from Woe and deep Despair,
Bright as Noon-day, and as the Morning fair.
Thou shalt in Peace thy Fields and Herds survey,
Secure as well from Beasts, as Men of Prey.
Surrounding Bulwarks shall thy Dwelling fence,
Against all hostile Rage and Violence.
When thou shalt lay thy weary Limbs to rest,
No suddain Dangers shall thy Sleep molest.
To thee thy Neighbours shall in Throngs resort
To see thy Splendor, and thy Friendship Court,
And from thy Power shall humbly ask Support.
But mighty Woes the Wicked shall Assail,
In looking after Help their Eyes shall fail:
Their Hope shall vanish as a blast of Air;
How shall they scape, 'tis God denounces War?
And thou shalt humbly to th' Allmighty pray;
If thou his Lands and Treasure dost restore
(If thou detainest any) to the Poor;
If thou the Cause of Sin wilt not espouse,
But chase it from thy Heart, and from thy House;
Thou shalt to Heav'n thy chearful Face erect,
To Heav'n that does the Innocent Protect.
On strong Foundations stedfast thou shalt stand,
Danger deride, and all thy Fears disband.
As Summer Floods which o'er the Meadows flow
With equal Speed back to their Channel go:
So thy subsiding Sorrows shall retreat,
And thou shalt all thy Misery forget.
Thou shalt dispel with thy prevailing Light,
The Shades and gloomy Horrors of the Night.
Thou shalt emerge from Woe and deep Despair,
Bright as Noon-day, and as the Morning fair.
Thou shalt in Peace thy Fields and Herds survey,
Secure as well from Beasts, as Men of Prey.
Surrounding Bulwarks shall thy Dwelling fence,
Against all hostile Rage and Violence.
When thou shalt lay thy weary Limbs to rest,
No suddain Dangers shall thy Sleep molest.
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To see thy Splendor, and thy Friendship Court,
And from thy Power shall humbly ask Support.
But mighty Woes the Wicked shall Assail,
In looking after Help their Eyes shall fail:
Their Hope shall vanish as a blast of Air;
How shall they scape, 'tis God denounces War?
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Chap. X.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job | |