University of Virginia Library


135

An Epigram, occasion'd by the News that Sir R--- Bl---re's Paraphrase upon Job was in the Press.

When Job contending with the Devil I saw,
It did my Wonder, but not Pity, draw;
For I concluded that, without some Trick,
A Saint at any time could match Old Nick.
Next came a fiercer Fiend upon his Back,
I mean his Spouse, stunning him with her Clack;
But still I could not pity him as knowing
A Crabtree-cudgel soon woold send her going.
But when the Quack engag'd with Job, I 'spy'd;
The Lord have Mercy on poor Job, I cry'd.
What Spouse and Satan did attempt in vain
The Quack will compass with his murd'ring Pen,
And on a Dunghil leave poor Job agen.
With impious Doggrel he'll pollute his Theme,
And make the Saint against his Will blaspheme.