Du Bartas His Divine Weekes And Workes with A Compleate Collectio[n] of all the other most delight-full Workes: Translated and written by yt famous Philomusus: Iosvah Sylvester |
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 | Du Bartas |  |
Moreover, yet, The Lord, proceeding, said
To Iob: Shall He that dares with God to plead,
Teach Him His Part? Let him (who God doth tax)
Heer let me hear the Answer that he makes.
To Iob: Shall He that dares with God to plead,
Teach Him His Part? Let him (who God doth tax)
Heer let me hear the Answer that he makes.
Iob sadly then Thus humbly did reply:
O! Lord, behold; O! most-most Vile am I.
What shall I answer Thee? What shall I say?
Onely, my hand vpon my mouth I'll lay.
Once haue I spoke, and twice; and too-too bold:
But now, for ever I my Tongue will hold.
O! Lord, behold; O! most-most Vile am I.
What shall I answer Thee? What shall I say?
Onely, my hand vpon my mouth I'll lay.
Once haue I spoke, and twice; and too-too bold:
But now, for ever I my Tongue will hold.
Again, the Lord out of the Whirle-winde spake,
And said to Iob: Yes, yes; thy Theam re-take:
Gird vp thy loyns again, and play the Man:
I'll question thee: now answer, if Thou can.
And said to Iob: Yes, yes; thy Theam re-take:
Gird vp thy loyns again, and play the Man:
I'll question thee: now answer, if Thou can.
Wilt Thou make voyd my Iudgements (iust and hie);
Condemning Me, thy Selfe to iustifie?
Hast thou an Arme like to the Arme divine?
Or is Thy Voyce as Thunder-like as Mine?
Condemning Me, thy Selfe to iustifie?
Hast thou an Arme like to the Arme divine?
Or is Thy Voyce as Thunder-like as Mine?
Put-on thy Robes of Maiestie and Might:
Deck Thee with Glory, and with Bewty bright;
Dart forth the Lightnings of thy wrathfull Frown,
Against the Proud, and bring them tumbling down:
Behold Thou all and every one that's Proud,
And down with Them, and all the Wicked Croud:
Trample vpon them, in their very Place:
Hide them in Dust at once; there binde their Face:
Then will I grant (what Thou hast vrg'd so braue)
That thine owne Selfe thine owne right hand can saue.
Deck Thee with Glory, and with Bewty bright;
Dart forth the Lightnings of thy wrathfull Frown,
Against the Proud, and bring them tumbling down:
Behold Thou all and every one that's Proud,
And down with Them, and all the Wicked Croud:
947
Hide them in Dust at once; there binde their Face:
Then will I grant (what Thou hast vrg'd so braue)
That thine owne Selfe thine owne right hand can saue.
But, Now, behold (thy Fellow) Behemoth,
Thy fellow Creature; for, I made you Both.
He, like an Ox amid the Field doth graze:
In's Loynes and Navell his most Strength he has:
He whisks his sinnewie Taile, stiff as a Ceder;
His Stones (within) with Nerues are wreathd together.
His Bones and Ribs be strong as Brazen Bars,
And as vnyeelding as the Iron-Spars:
Hee's of the Master-peeces of the Lord,
Who also arm'd him with a ready Sword.
The Mountains yeeld him meat; where night and day,
All other Beasts doo fear-less feed and play.
Beneath the broad-leav'd shady Trees he lodges
Amid the Fens, among the Reeds and Sedges,
Compast with Willowes of the Brook about:
Where, when he enters (in the time of Drought)
The massie bulk of his huge bodie bayes
The Torrents course, and even the Current stayes:
There, yer he go, the River dry he drinks;
And in his Thirst to swallow Iordan thinks.
Dare any come, before him, Him to take,
Or bore his Snout, of Him a Slaue to make?
Thy fellow Creature; for, I made you Both.
He, like an Ox amid the Field doth graze:
In's Loynes and Navell his most Strength he has:
He whisks his sinnewie Taile, stiff as a Ceder;
His Stones (within) with Nerues are wreathd together.
His Bones and Ribs be strong as Brazen Bars,
And as vnyeelding as the Iron-Spars:
Hee's of the Master-peeces of the Lord,
Who also arm'd him with a ready Sword.
The Mountains yeeld him meat; where night and day,
All other Beasts doo fear-less feed and play.
Beneath the broad-leav'd shady Trees he lodges
Amid the Fens, among the Reeds and Sedges,
Compast with Willowes of the Brook about:
Where, when he enters (in the time of Drought)
The massie bulk of his huge bodie bayes
The Torrents course, and even the Current stayes:
There, yer he go, the River dry he drinks;
And in his Thirst to swallow Iordan thinks.
Dare any come, before him, Him to take,
Or bore his Snout, of Him a Slaue to make?
| Du Bartas | |