The grand Tryal or, Poetical Exercitations upon the book of Job. Wherein, Suitable to each Text of that sacred Book, a modest Explanation, and Continuation of the several Discourses contained in it, is attempted by William Clark |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
II. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. | Cap. VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
III. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
IV. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
XXXIV. |
XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
V. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
XLII. |
The grand Tryal | ||
Cap. VIII.
Thus have we seen how Job with grief opprest,
By night and day, has in his Mind no rest.
In this sad case, with great impatience,
Appears to quarrel even Providence.
For those his Friends, of whom he did expect
Some Comfort, rather sharplie did him check,
For th'Errors of his Life, and openly
Reprov'd him for his gross Hypocrisie:
We've seen with how much Art and Eloquence,
One of his friends has given evidence
Against him, now another undertakes,
Th'argument, and thus he answer makes.
By night and day, has in his Mind no rest.
In this sad case, with great impatience,
Appears to quarrel even Providence.
For those his Friends, of whom he did expect
Some Comfort, rather sharplie did him check,
For th'Errors of his Life, and openly
Reprov'd him for his gross Hypocrisie:
We've seen with how much Art and Eloquence,
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Against him, now another undertakes,
Th'argument, and thus he answer makes.
How long, sayes he, friend, wilt thou thus exclaim
Against that justice, which the Heavens did frame,
To what do all thy imprecations tend?
What means this clamour? shall there be no end
Of this thy idle talking? shall we be
Oblig'd to hear, what none, but such as thee
Would stammer out? what one in sober case
Would be asham'd to speak: such words as these,
Which thou in foolish passion hast us'd
Against our God: would hardly be excus'd,
Out of a mad-mans mouth: but when they flow
From such as thee, friend, whom we all do know
To be of more than ordinary Sense,
We must condemn, thy gross impatience.
Against that justice, which the Heavens did frame,
To what do all thy imprecations tend?
What means this clamour? shall there be no end
Of this thy idle talking? shall we be
Oblig'd to hear, what none, but such as thee
Would stammer out? what one in sober case
Would be asham'd to speak: such words as these,
Which thou in foolish passion hast us'd
Against our God: would hardly be excus'd,
Out of a mad-mans mouth: but when they flow
From such as thee, friend, whom we all do know
To be of more than ordinary Sense,
We must condemn, thy gross impatience.
Dost' think that God, whose great and mighty Name,
All things Created, dayly do proclaim,
Can in his judgements err, can any thing
Invert the firm Decrees of Heavens King?
He who himself is Justice, can he do
What is unjust? dost think that he'l allow
Vain man t'imagine that he can dispense
With what injustice is, in any Sense?
Dost think he can be Brib'd, as dayly here
Our Judges are, either by Hope, or Fear,
With all th'efforts of humane Art, and Skill
T'alter th'Eternal Purpose of his Will.
All things Created, dayly do proclaim,
Can in his judgements err, can any thing
Invert the firm Decrees of Heavens King?
He who himself is Justice, can he do
What is unjust? dost think that he'l allow
Vain man t'imagine that he can dispense
With what injustice is, in any Sense?
Dost think he can be Brib'd, as dayly here
Our Judges are, either by Hope, or Fear,
With all th'efforts of humane Art, and Skill
T'alter th'Eternal Purpose of his Will.
Why if thy Children did their God offend,
And for their sins, were brought t'untimely end:
Why dost'regrate the loss so bitterly,
Of those who for their Crimes deserv'd to dye?
No sure thou shouldst not such thy Children call,
But rather take example by their Fall;
T'abstain from sin, and not provoke the Wrath
Of him, who in his Hand has Life, and Death.
And for their sins, were brought t'untimely end:
Why dost'regrate the loss so bitterly,
Of those who for their Crimes deserv'd to dye?
No sure thou shouldst not such thy Children call,
But rather take example by their Fall;
T'abstain from sin, and not provoke the Wrath
Of him, who in his Hand has Life, and Death.
Yet if thou'lt call on God, and earnestlie
Implore assistance from his Majesty,
If with a heart, and hands uplifted thou,
Humbly before thy great Creator bow.
Implore assistance from his Majesty,
If with a heart, and hands uplifted thou,
Humbly before thy great Creator bow.
If with a cordial true sincerity,
Thou to thy Maker dost thy self apply;
Then will he hear thy Pray'r and after all,
What now thou dost most grievous Torments call,
He'l re-establish thee, and make thee see,
How much, for all thy Plagues, he valueth thee.
He'l blesse thy dwelling House with Righteousness,
And crown thy Life with Honour, Wealth, and Peace.
Thou to thy Maker dost thy self apply;
Then will he hear thy Pray'r and after all,
What now thou dost most grievous Torments call,
He'l re-establish thee, and make thee see,
How much, for all thy Plagues, he valueth thee.
He'l blesse thy dwelling House with Righteousness,
And crown thy Life with Honour, Wealth, and Peace.
Nay tho thou now dost in affliction lye,
Complaining of thy Pains, and Agony.
Although thy present Case seems to declare,
No Remedy is left thee, but despare.
Yet shall thy latter end with joyes be bless't
And thou of great abundance be possest.
Complaining of thy Pains, and Agony.
Although thy present Case seems to declare,
No Remedy is left thee, but despare.
Yet shall thy latter end with joyes be bless't
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Now if thou wilt not credit what we say,
Go too, enquire, search all Records I pray,
Dig in the bowels of Antiquity,
Where Times immense spare-treasury doth ly.
Where our Creators Glorious Works of old,
Are to be read in Characters of Gold.
There shalt thou see, what mercies God hath shown
To those he loves: how much he for his own
At all times hath appear'd: enquire now pray,
For, truth is, we are but of Yesterday.
Go too, enquire, search all Records I pray,
Dig in the bowels of Antiquity,
Where Times immense spare-treasury doth ly.
Where our Creators Glorious Works of old,
Are to be read in Characters of Gold.
There shalt thou see, what mercies God hath shown
To those he loves: how much he for his own
At all times hath appear'd: enquire now pray,
For, truth is, we are but of Yesterday.
Just drop't into the World, meer Novices,
Have no deep thoughts, and can at best but guess,
Men of no reach, nor is there time allow'd,
For us to learn on earth, although we wou'd.
For, as a shadow, so our years do pass,
Our Days by time are eaten up like Grass.
Have no deep thoughts, and can at best but guess,
Men of no reach, nor is there time allow'd,
For us to learn on earth, although we wou'd.
For, as a shadow, so our years do pass,
Our Days by time are eaten up like Grass.
But O let Venerable Antiquity
Inform thee plainly how the case doth ly,
Ask Councel of dead Wise Men, in a word
Let what those Fathers left upon Record
Teach thee, let their Authority prevail,
For what we speak, perhaps thou think'st a Tale.
Inform thee plainly how the case doth ly,
Ask Councel of dead Wise Men, in a word
Let what those Fathers left upon Record
Teach thee, let their Authority prevail,
For what we speak, perhaps thou think'st a Tale.
Inform thy self then, and thou'lt surely find.
We are thy real Friends, and are more kind
Than thou imagin'st, for we do not mean
To flatter thee: but hearing thee complain
Of thy sad usage, as if thou wert one
Void of all sin, and it could not be known
What mov'd our God so sore to punish thee,
We tell thee, we the reason plainly see.
Sins usher Judgments, as the Flames do heat,
And as when Serpents Mouth, and Tail doth meet,
It makes a Circle, so the sin goes round,
Then meeting with the Judgment doth confound
It self with th'substance of that pois'nous thing,
And so the Sin, and Plague make up one Ring:
In which Ingraven we may plainly read
The cause, from whence the judgment doth proceed.
For Sin and Judgment are so link'd together
As he who sees the one may see the other.
Let's argue then, my Friend, I do desire,
Can a Rush grow up, where there is no Mire?
Can Grass, unless by water moistened
Grow up, and with fair Coverlet o're spread
Both Hills, and Valleys: as is daily seen,
We are thy real Friends, and are more kind
Than thou imagin'st, for we do not mean
To flatter thee: but hearing thee complain
Of thy sad usage, as if thou wert one
Void of all sin, and it could not be known
What mov'd our God so sore to punish thee,
We tell thee, we the reason plainly see.
Sins usher Judgments, as the Flames do heat,
And as when Serpents Mouth, and Tail doth meet,
It makes a Circle, so the sin goes round,
Then meeting with the Judgment doth confound
It self with th'substance of that pois'nous thing,
And so the Sin, and Plague make up one Ring:
In which Ingraven we may plainly read
The cause, from whence the judgment doth proceed.
For Sin and Judgment are so link'd together
As he who sees the one may see the other.
Let's argue then, my Friend, I do desire,
Can a Rush grow up, where there is no Mire?
Can Grass, unless by water moistened
Grow up, and with fair Coverlet o're spread
Both Hills, and Valleys: as is daily seen,
The Grass which withers, whilst is yet green
It doth require no toil to cut it down,
For it doth fade, before it can be mown.
Before all other Herbs it withereth,
For all its Beauty quickly perisheth.
It doth require no toil to cut it down,
For it doth fade, before it can be mown.
Before all other Herbs it withereth,
For all its Beauty quickly perisheth.
Such is the case of those, who do forget
Their God, and on vain things their minds do set.
Of whom, I look upon the Hypocrite
A creature, who it self a Saint doth write,
Pretending to a singular Purity,
And gulls the World, with show of Piety;
To be the chief: this wretch I do esteem
The worst of men, not meriting the Name,
Even of a Moral Man, so base a Creature,
So supercilious, of so false a Nature,
As no man can his word, or promise trust,
An abject sinner, nothing fram'd of Dust
God hates so much: and therefore let him Treat
His Conscience, as he will; and basely cheat
The credulous World, with a Formality,
God will not suffer such Hypocrisie
To flourish long: but in a moments space
This painted Flower shall wither, like the Grass;
For God shall soon, for all his lofty top,
Dash him to thousand pieces with his hope.
Their God, and on vain things their minds do set.
Of whom, I look upon the Hypocrite
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Pretending to a singular Purity,
And gulls the World, with show of Piety;
To be the chief: this wretch I do esteem
The worst of men, not meriting the Name,
Even of a Moral Man, so base a Creature,
So supercilious, of so false a Nature,
As no man can his word, or promise trust,
An abject sinner, nothing fram'd of Dust
God hates so much: and therefore let him Treat
His Conscience, as he will; and basely cheat
The credulous World, with a Formality,
God will not suffer such Hypocrisie
To flourish long: but in a moments space
This painted Flower shall wither, like the Grass;
For God shall soon, for all his lofty top,
Dash him to thousand pieces with his hope.
He'l disappoint his hateful confidence,
And cut him off for all his formal sense,
Those earthly things, in which he put his trust,
Shall in an instant be transform'd to dust:
Of no more value, than a Spiders house,
To every besome so obnoxious,
As what appears most neatly wrought to day,
To morrow is most nearly sweep't away.
And cut him off for all his formal sense,
Those earthly things, in which he put his trust,
Shall in an instant be transform'd to dust:
Of no more value, than a Spiders house,
To every besome so obnoxious,
As what appears most neatly wrought to day,
To morrow is most nearly sweep't away.
Shall soon perceive the flattering vanity,
Of such as think t'erect a family
On villany, and fraud (for desolation,
Is only built on such a weak foundation)
His out-side piety shall no more prevail,
For all those cunning Tricks, and Arts shall fail
By which he did the World abuse; his name
Shall not be mention'd, but with scorn, and shame.
Let him do what he can to magnify
The reputation of his Family.
Let him hoord up his Means in Chests of Iron,
And round the same with Grats of Brass environ:
Let him grasp close the things he loves so well,
And 'mongst his quickly purchas'd Treasures dwell:
Watching them, with great trouble night, and day,
Yet shall those darling Riches fly away.
Of such as think t'erect a family
On villany, and fraud (for desolation,
Is only built on such a weak foundation)
His out-side piety shall no more prevail,
For all those cunning Tricks, and Arts shall fail
By which he did the World abuse; his name
Shall not be mention'd, but with scorn, and shame.
Let him do what he can to magnify
The reputation of his Family.
Let him hoord up his Means in Chests of Iron,
And round the same with Grats of Brass environ:
Let him grasp close the things he loves so well,
And 'mongst his quickly purchas'd Treasures dwell:
Watching them, with great trouble night, and day,
Yet shall those darling Riches fly away.
But, as in view o'th' Sun a tender Tree
Still verdant flourisheth, although it be
Transplanted from one place t'another, yet
It growes apace, and nothing doth abate
Of its most pleasant shape, and former strength,
Till it become a lofty pine at length.
Still verdant flourisheth, although it be
Transplanted from one place t'another, yet
It growes apace, and nothing doth abate
Of its most pleasant shape, and former strength,
Till it become a lofty pine at length.
Although its Roots in Earth do scattered lye,
Like Mettals in the Veins, so as no eye
Can trace them, some about the Fountain wrap't,
Some close to th'Arbours, and the stone-house clap't,
Like Mettals in the Veins, so as no eye
Can trace them, some about the Fountain wrap't,
Some close to th'Arbours, and the stone-house clap't,
Yet pluck it up, and to another Ground
Transplant it, as no vestige can be found
Of its first seat, so that no eye can know
Whether a Tree did e're grow there, or no.
Transplant it, as no vestige can be found
Of its first seat, so that no eye can know
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T'will soon shoot up amain, and flourish more,
In that new soile, than ere it did before.
Even so the Godly, though it be their case,
To be transplanted here from place to place:
Toss'd with afflictions, and with sorrows vex't,
With grief overwhelm'd, with poverty perplex't,
Yet shall they laugh at length, whilst others mourn,
And all their woes shall to their profit turn.
In that new soile, than ere it did before.
Even so the Godly, though it be their case,
To be transplanted here from place to place:
Toss'd with afflictions, and with sorrows vex't,
With grief overwhelm'd, with poverty perplex't,
Yet shall they laugh at length, whilst others mourn,
And all their woes shall to their profit turn.
For God an upright man will not neglect,
Nor will he th'injust in his wayes protect;
He will not thee, friend, in this state desert,
But after all will truly take thy part;
Nor will he th'injust in his wayes protect;
He will not thee, friend, in this state desert,
But after all will truly take thy part;
Nor will he leave thee, till he has restor'd,
All he has taken from thee, in a word,
He'll fill thy Lips with joy, and make thee glad
At length, indeed, more than thou now art sad.
All he has taken from thee, in a word,
He'll fill thy Lips with joy, and make thee glad
At length, indeed, more than thou now art sad.
Then such as thee contemn'd in poverty,
When they perceive thee in prosperity,
Shall be asham'd of what they did before,
And shall thy friendship by all means implore.
But if thou in thy stubborn ways persist,
And think it lawful to do what thou list;
Then shall thy sorrows, 'stead of growing less,
Be more, and thy afflictions shall encrease.
When they perceive thee in prosperity,
Shall be asham'd of what they did before,
And shall thy friendship by all means implore.
But if thou in thy stubborn ways persist,
And think it lawful to do what thou list;
Then shall thy sorrows, 'stead of growing less,
Be more, and thy afflictions shall encrease.
The grand Tryal | ||