The miscellaneous works (1739)

Who, and where art thou, fond, presumptuous man!
That by thy own weak measures mine would'st scan?
Undaunted, as an equal match for me,
Stand forth, and answer my demands to thee.

And first, let thy original be trac'd,
And tell me then what mighty thing thou wast,
When to the world my potent word gave birth,
And fix'd the centre of the floating earth?
Didst thou assist with one designing thought,
Or my idea's rectify in ought,
When from confusion I this order brought?

When like an artist I the line stretch'd out,
And mark'd its wide circumference about,
Didst thou contribute, Job, the needful aid,
When I the deep, and strong foundations laid,
And with my hand the rising pillars stay'd?
When from the perfect model of my mind,
The vast and stately fabric was design'd;
So wond'rous, so complete in ev'ry part,
Adorn'd with such variety of art,
The sons of light the goodly frame survey,
As their own seats magnificent and gay.
Around the shining verge of heav'n they crowd,
And from the crystal confines, shout aloud.
For joy the morning stars together sang,
And heav'n, all o'er, with glad preludiums rang.

Were the tumultuous floods by thee controul'd,
When without bounds the foaming billows roll'd?
Didst thou appoint 'em then their ouzy bed,
And humid clouds o'er all their surface spread,
Affixing limits to th' imperious deep,
The limits it perpetually shall keep;
Tho' mounting high, the angry surges roar,
And dash themselves, with rage, against the shore?

When did'st thou summon up the ling'ring day,
And haste the lovely blushing morn away?
Swift as my flaming messengers above,
Its gaudy wings at my direction move.

Hast thou survey'd the ocean's dark abodes,
The steep descents, the vaults, and craggy roads,
Thro' which hollow rumour rush the nether floods?
Or hast thou measur'd the prodigious store
Of waves, that in those ghastly caverns roar?
Or hast thou, Job, the fatal valley trac'd,
And thro' the realms of death undaunted pass'd;
Where the pale king a rusty scepter weilds,
And reigns a tyrant o'er the dusky fields?
Dost thou the pure immortal fountain know,
From whence those num'rous streams of glory flow,
Which feed the radiant lamps that in the ether glow?
Or from what caves the sullen shadows rise
When, like a deluge, night involves the skies?
How does the sun his morning beams display
Thro' golden clouds, and spread the sudden day;
When breaking from the east, all fresh and fair,
He dances thro' the glitt'ring fields of air?
At his approach all nature looks more gay,
Thro' ev'ry grove refreshing breezes play,
And o'er the streams, and o'er the meadows, stray,

Dost thou the clouds amidst the air sustain,
And melt the floating rivers down in rain;
When over-charg'd, the yielding atmosphere,
No longer now the wat'ry load can bear?
On gloomy wings the sounding tempest flies,
And heavy thunders roll along the skies;
Around the airy vault fierce light'nings play,
And burn themselves, thro' solid clouds, a way:

With water, who the wilderness supplies?
And tell me whence the midnight dews arise?
Or from what cold and petrifying womb
The ice, and nipping hoary frost does come?
What secret pow'rs its fluid parts cement,
Congeal, and harden the soft element?
All stiff, and motionless, the frozen deep,
No curling winds its shining surface sweep.

Canst thou the chearing influences stay
Of those mild stars which deck the spring so gay?
Or loose the sullen planet's icy bands,
Which frosts, and rough tempestuous winds, commands?
Canst thou bring out fair Maz'roth's sultry beam?
Or guide, thro' heav'ns blue tracks, the starry team?
Do all the shining, vast machines above,
By thy contrivance, in such order move?
If so—still thy divinity to prove,
Set open now the flood-gates of the sky,
And call a mighty deluge from on high;
Kindle prodigious light'nings, and command
The burning flashes with a daring hand—
I'll then confess thou hast an arm like me;
And that thy own right-hand can succour thee.

University of Virginia Library

The xxxviiith chapter of Job translated.