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 |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
Chap. 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. |
|
|
| LIII. |
 |
Chap. XIII.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job |  |
53
Chap. XIII.
Since you are pleas'd oft to enumerate
God's Wise and mighty Works in this debate,
I the same Method have observ'd, to shew
That I his Wonders know, no less than you.
I do not then your long Discourses want,
To prove those Truths Divine, I freely grant.
I to th' Almighty my Defence would make,
And not to you, who still my Case mistake.
He does my Heart, and pure Intention know,
And would some Mercy, some Compassion show,
Which my relentless Friends will never do.
Perversly in the Wrong you persevere,
And to erroneous Doctrines still adhere.
You still your Thoughts with Confidence express,
That mighty Suff'rings mighty Guilt confess.
That great Afflictions and uncommon Woe,
Are marks the Wicked from the Just to know.
But you unskilful vain Physitians are,
Who know not how your Med'cine to prepare.
If the Disease by Chance be understood,
Ill Drugs you give, or misapply the Good.
Your Silence would your Wisdom best have shown,
That still had kept your Ignorance unknown.
God's Wise and mighty Works in this debate,
I the same Method have observ'd, to shew
That I his Wonders know, no less than you.
I do not then your long Discourses want,
To prove those Truths Divine, I freely grant.
I to th' Almighty my Defence would make,
And not to you, who still my Case mistake.
He does my Heart, and pure Intention know,
And would some Mercy, some Compassion show,
Which my relentless Friends will never do.
Perversly in the Wrong you persevere,
And to erroneous Doctrines still adhere.
You still your Thoughts with Confidence express,
That mighty Suff'rings mighty Guilt confess.
That great Afflictions and uncommon Woe,
Are marks the Wicked from the Just to know.
But you unskilful vain Physitians are,
Who know not how your Med'cine to prepare.
If the Disease by Chance be understood,
Ill Drugs you give, or misapply the Good.
Your Silence would your Wisdom best have shown,
That still had kept your Ignorance unknown.
Will you for God sophistically plead?
Does he deceitful ways of arguing need?
Will you pretend to manage his Defence,
By false Constructions of his Providence?
Will he in this your forward Zeal applaud?
And with Rewards approve your pious Fraud?
Will you the Person Try, and not the Cause,
And like corrupted Judges wrest the Laws?
Will you believe your Arguments are strong,
Because you hang upon a Cause so long?
Will your contentious Wrangling never end?
Will peevish Cavils at your injur'd Friend,
You to th' Almighty's Favour recommend?
Would it your Honour or your Peace promote,
If God your Speeches try'd, who knows your Thought?
Why will you Mock your Maker? can't his Eye
Your Pride and want of Charity descry,
Tho' cover'd with affected Piety?
If you will Right pervert and Judgment wrest,
Tho' this your Guilt lies hid within your Breast,
God will expose your Crime, and in the end
His vengeful Blow shall on your Heads descend.
His high Perfections should in you have bred,
A sacred Awe and Reverential Dread:
Should not his Power, and Truth that cannot err,
From rash Determinations you deter?
Does he deceitful ways of arguing need?
Will you pretend to manage his Defence,
By false Constructions of his Providence?
54
And with Rewards approve your pious Fraud?
Will you the Person Try, and not the Cause,
And like corrupted Judges wrest the Laws?
Will you believe your Arguments are strong,
Because you hang upon a Cause so long?
Will your contentious Wrangling never end?
Will peevish Cavils at your injur'd Friend,
You to th' Almighty's Favour recommend?
Would it your Honour or your Peace promote,
If God your Speeches try'd, who knows your Thought?
Why will you Mock your Maker? can't his Eye
Your Pride and want of Charity descry,
Tho' cover'd with affected Piety?
If you will Right pervert and Judgment wrest,
Tho' this your Guilt lies hid within your Breast,
God will expose your Crime, and in the end
His vengeful Blow shall on your Heads descend.
His high Perfections should in you have bred,
A sacred Awe and Reverential Dread:
Should not his Power, and Truth that cannot err,
From rash Determinations you deter?
I all your Councels vain and fruitless find,
Like Dust, that flies before the driving Wind.
Your high Discourses weak and tott'ring stand,
Like heaps of Clay, or uncemented Sand.
Hold then your Peace, and let your Friend alone
To ease his Grief, and freely make his moan.
I will my Bosom of its Burden free
By sad Complaints, whate'er the Issue be.
Will God pronounce my Failing mortal Sin,
When he discerns an upright Heart within?
For Liberty of Speech so much I long,
To vent my Woe, my Passion is so strong;
That if deny'd, I must in deep Despair,
Despise my Life, my Flesh in pieces tear.
Tho' God yet hotter Anger should express,
And with redoubled strokes my Pains increase;
Tho' he advances with his glitt'ring Dart,
And o'er me stands to strike me to the Heart;
I on his Truth and Justice would rely,
And with strong Faith would to his Mercy fly.
Th' Almighty knows my Virtue is sincere,
I'm not flagitious, tho' I often err.
The Faithful God the Faithful will protect,
Scourge them he may, but can't the Just reject.
I'll undertake with humble Confidence,
Before his Bar to manage my Defence.
Whatever Blots my Conversation stain,
I still can my Integrity maintain.
I'm sure the God whose Mercy I implore,
My Peace and Comforts will at last restore:
By Methods and by Ways which please him best,
My Burden he'll remove, and give me rest.
Like Dust, that flies before the driving Wind.
Your high Discourses weak and tott'ring stand,
Like heaps of Clay, or uncemented Sand.
Hold then your Peace, and let your Friend alone
To ease his Grief, and freely make his moan.
55
By sad Complaints, whate'er the Issue be.
Will God pronounce my Failing mortal Sin,
When he discerns an upright Heart within?
For Liberty of Speech so much I long,
To vent my Woe, my Passion is so strong;
That if deny'd, I must in deep Despair,
Despise my Life, my Flesh in pieces tear.
Tho' God yet hotter Anger should express,
And with redoubled strokes my Pains increase;
Tho' he advances with his glitt'ring Dart,
And o'er me stands to strike me to the Heart;
I on his Truth and Justice would rely,
And with strong Faith would to his Mercy fly.
Th' Almighty knows my Virtue is sincere,
I'm not flagitious, tho' I often err.
The Faithful God the Faithful will protect,
Scourge them he may, but can't the Just reject.
I'll undertake with humble Confidence,
Before his Bar to manage my Defence.
Whatever Blots my Conversation stain,
I still can my Integrity maintain.
I'm sure the God whose Mercy I implore,
My Peace and Comforts will at last restore:
By Methods and by Ways which please him best,
My Burden he'll remove, and give me rest.
My Declaration with Attention hear,
My Words shall make my Righteousness appear.
The Method I have fix'd for my Defence,
I do not doubt will clear my Innocence.
Who'll with me plead? Oh! that it was my Fate
That God would please to manage this debate.
For if in such a strait I should not speak,
My Heart distended with my Grief would break.
My Friends Reproaches, and th' Almighty's Hand
Which lies so heavy, my Complaints demand.
Let but th' Almighty grant my double Pray'r,
And I'll with Courage stand before his Bar:
Let him withdraw his Hand, my Pains suspend,
And give me ease my Tryal to attend;
In Power and Glory let him not appear,
But my Defence with gracious Meekness hear;
Then let th' Almighty me arraign at large,
And I'll defend my self against the Charge.
Or I will argue, and let him declare
The reason why his Hand is thus severe.
I'm not so vain and wicked to pretend,
That I th' Almighty's Laws did ne'er offend;
But that my Crimes are of so deep a dy,
As you my Friends suggest, I must deny.
Detect these Crimes that are to me unknown,
And I'll the Guilt with Shame and Sorrow own.
My Words shall make my Righteousness appear.
56
I do not doubt will clear my Innocence.
Who'll with me plead? Oh! that it was my Fate
That God would please to manage this debate.
For if in such a strait I should not speak,
My Heart distended with my Grief would break.
My Friends Reproaches, and th' Almighty's Hand
Which lies so heavy, my Complaints demand.
Let but th' Almighty grant my double Pray'r,
And I'll with Courage stand before his Bar:
Let him withdraw his Hand, my Pains suspend,
And give me ease my Tryal to attend;
In Power and Glory let him not appear,
But my Defence with gracious Meekness hear;
Then let th' Almighty me arraign at large,
And I'll defend my self against the Charge.
Or I will argue, and let him declare
The reason why his Hand is thus severe.
I'm not so vain and wicked to pretend,
That I th' Almighty's Laws did ne'er offend;
But that my Crimes are of so deep a dy,
As you my Friends suggest, I must deny.
Detect these Crimes that are to me unknown,
And I'll the Guilt with Shame and Sorrow own.
Why in Displeasure dost thou shun my Sight,
And of thy gracious Eyes withdraw the Light?
Why hangs this Cloud upon thy frowning Brow?
Why treatest thou thy Servant, as thy Foe?
Wilt thou to crush me needless Power engage,
Lavish of Vengeance, and profuse of Rage?
Wilt thou thy keen Immortal Arms employ,
A poor and helpless Mortal to destroy?
Wilt thou involv'd in rolling Clouds descend,
And arm'd with Thunder with a Worm contend?
Should Storms arise a sapless Leaf to tear
The sport of every Wind and blast of Air?
Must Tempests rage, and pointed Light'ning fly,
And dreadful War infest the troubled Sky,
Only to chase the empty Straw away,
To every Spark of Fire an easie Prey?
Me, as a Malefactor God indicts,
And terrible Decrees against me writes.
Stern Justice gripes me in her rigid Arms,
And youthful Guilt afresh my Soul alarms.
Thou dost my fetter'd Limbs in Prison lay,
And then with Care dost all my Paths survey;
Dost closely at my very Heels pursue,
And with a searching Eye my Footsteps view.
To mark some great Transgression of thy Laws,
And for my Condemnation find a Cause:
Then Putrefaction executes the Doom,
And does my Flesh, as Moths a Vest, consume.
And of thy gracious Eyes withdraw the Light?
Why hangs this Cloud upon thy frowning Brow?
Why treatest thou thy Servant, as thy Foe?
57
Lavish of Vengeance, and profuse of Rage?
Wilt thou thy keen Immortal Arms employ,
A poor and helpless Mortal to destroy?
Wilt thou involv'd in rolling Clouds descend,
And arm'd with Thunder with a Worm contend?
Should Storms arise a sapless Leaf to tear
The sport of every Wind and blast of Air?
Must Tempests rage, and pointed Light'ning fly,
And dreadful War infest the troubled Sky,
Only to chase the empty Straw away,
To every Spark of Fire an easie Prey?
Me, as a Malefactor God indicts,
And terrible Decrees against me writes.
Stern Justice gripes me in her rigid Arms,
And youthful Guilt afresh my Soul alarms.
Thou dost my fetter'd Limbs in Prison lay,
And then with Care dost all my Paths survey;
Dost closely at my very Heels pursue,
And with a searching Eye my Footsteps view.
To mark some great Transgression of thy Laws,
And for my Condemnation find a Cause:
Then Putrefaction executes the Doom,
And does my Flesh, as Moths a Vest, consume.
|
Chap. XIII.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job | |