University of Virginia Library

The III. Chapter of the Book of JOB

TRANSLATED.

“Thus JOB began, — “Curst be the Fatal Morn
“In which distinguish'd Wretchedness was born!
“From the fair Round of the revolving Year
“Perish that Day! nor let the Night appear;
“In which this Spec of Entity began
“To swell to Misery and promise Man!
“Let Darkness stain it o'er, no friendly Ray
“Pierce thro' the Gloom of that affrighted Day!
“But Shades of Terror o'er its Circuit spread,
“And sold it in the Mantle of the Dead!
“O'er that curst Night may double Horrors dwell,
“Such as enwrap the Punishments of Hell!

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2

“No chearful Sounds its Solitude awake,
“But such as Fiends, and tortur'd Wretches make;
“Such as may wound the Soul, and shock the Ear,
“The Groans of Death, and Howlings of Despair!
“May all its Stars with Rays diminish'd show,
“And thro' the dusky Air obscurely glow!
“No Glimpse of Hope the dreadful Scene adorn,
“Nor let it see the Promise of a Morn!—
“Because it shut not up my Mother's Womb,
“And join'd at once my Cradle and my Tomb:
“Why dy'd I not? Why did preventive Care
“My destin'd Life for future Sorrows Spare?
“Then had I found that Ease I seek in vain,
“Nor known this Load of unexampled Pain!

“O Grave! thou Refuge of the Soul distrest!
“When shall I sink into thy downy Rest?
“There Kings and Mighty Ones neglected rot,
“In their own mould'ring Monuments forgot:

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3

“(Tho' once of Grandeur and of Pow'r possest,
“And all the Treasures of the shining East)
“There Men no longer vain Distinctions boast,
“In common Dust the Prince and Slave are lost:
“Low lyes th' Oppressor bound in lasting Chains,
“There of his Rod the Wretch no more complains!
“There cease the Wailings of the Heart distrest,
“And there the Weary find eternal Rest!