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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

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Cap. XV.
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Cap. XV.

1. Then answered Eliphaz the Temanite, and said.

How delicat! how admirably good!

How learn'd! how pious! (if well understood,)
How grave! how solid! how elaborat
Was Jobs discourse!—what Mortal in his state,
Oppress'd with sorrow could himself expresse,
So firmly, and with so much steadinesse,
Of Mind, as this afflicted man has done,
Yet after all.—
His friend, as formerly, must him reprove,
(Whether from envy this proceeds, or love,
May be a question) and accordingly
Eliphaz, all this while who patiently
Had heard him speak, at length resolves once more,
To argue with him, as he did before.
And thus, in terms severe, and violent,
Takes up his Brother Zophars argument.

2. Shall a wise man speak words of the wind? and fill his belly with the east-wind?

And should a wise man thus expresse his mind,

In words, says he, inconstant, as the wind?
Words of no value, foolish idle words,
Such, as a discomposed mind affords.
Words so extrinsick to the case in hand,
As, truth, I think thou dost not understand
What thou dost speak: words so extravagant,
So course, so dull, so insignificant,
Such whining words. so childish, and so mean,
So far below a man, so poor, and lean,
As one, that were not in his judgement weak,
I'm confident would be asham'd to speak.
Unequal words: words scarce articulat;
Words, Like a Turtles chattering, at this rate
Parrots, and Magpyes might be taught to prat.

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3. Shall he dispute with words, that are not comely? or with talk, that is not profitable?

Then should a wise man use such words, as these?

Or, with such Language, his sick fancy please?
Language, by which thou dost thy cause abuse.
Language, which none, but Lunaticks would use:
Provoking words, discourse not tolerable,
And as thy case is, quite unprofitable:
Yet, in such gibbrish, thou must vent thy mind,
But, from my heart, I'd wish thou'd be more kind
To thy poor self, and not excruciate,
With sad complaints, and cryings, at this rate,
Thy troubled Soul. I's't not enough that thou
Shouldst chide thy Friends?—but thus thy Maker too
T'upbraid forsooth, and that so bitterly,
As if our God could do an injury
To thee, my friend, or any of us all:
Then why shouldst thou exclaim? why shouldst thou baul?
When God in justice doth inflict what he
Judges has ever been deserv'd by thee.

4. Sure thou hast casten off fear, and restrains prayer before God.

Indeed, my friend, I'm sorry to perceive

Thy sad condition, and I truely grieve,
To hear thee cry, and rave incessantly
In this thy feaver of impiety.
Why now, alace, my friend, thou dost appear
Designedlie t'have shaken off all fear
Of God Almighty: thou who us'd to pray,
And pour thy Soul out, both by night, and day,
Before thy Maker: now, alace, I fear
Th'hast totally fogot the use of prayer:
And seem'st to be, by thy unruly passions,
In desuetude of pious meditations.

5. For thy mouth declareth thy iniquity, seing thou hast chosen the tongue of the crafty.

Else how should such Expressions, as these

Proceed out of thy mouth? such passages
Of simple folly, as no wise mans ear
Can so much idle talk with patience hear.
For thruth' thou talkst, like one, who wantonly
Makes Table-jests of Grace, and Piety,
Who laughs at God, and all that he hath made,
Blasphems his holy name, and makes a trade
To treat en ridicule, all Providence,
Arguing boldly all things come by chance.

6. Thine own mouth condemneth thee. & not I, and thy lips testify against thee.

Sure thou deserv'st extreamly to be blam'd,

That, in the eyes of God art not asham'd
To talk, like one of those, whose hearts are seal'd,
To whom our God at no time has reveal'd
His Divine Grace: but lets them foolishly
Run out the Course of their Impiety.
And never stop, till some Disease do quell
Their hot Carrier, and then the thoughts of Hell
The apprehensions of tormenting Devils
With the sad prospect of all kind of Evils
May some Remorse from those poor Souls procure,
But these good thoughts no longer do endure,
Than their Disease for, let its force abate,
And then return they to their former state.

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Like one of those, thou talkst, alace, my friend,
When wilt' to those expressions put an end?
For thus thy mouth condemns thee, and not I,
Thy conscious lips against the testify.
Thou talks't, thou talks't, and like a foolish wretch,
Wouldst fain discourse of things above thy reach,
And seem'st to question, in thy frantick sense,
The soveraign power of Divine Providence.
Thou talkst with God, as wouldst with one of us,
—Why thus oppress'd? why am I punish'd thus?
Sayst thou, why are my steps thus calculat?
And all my errors so enumerat?
As if forsooth, he who commands on high,
Should find himself oblig'd to satisfy
Thy rude demands: as if forsooth that he
Should stoop so low, as answer such as thee,
In all thy School-boyes questions, and assign
A reason for his actings.
Dost think that he, who did us all Create,
And with his own Breath did us animate,
From whence this reason (of which were so proud)
Flows in a channel, can be understood
To act by other rules, than only those
Of undisturbed reason? dost suppose
That he, who governs all by upright Laws,
Would punish such as the, without a cause?
Prethee, my friend, then let me understand
Why so presumptuous as to demand
A reason, why thou art thus punished?
Dost think such language can be suffered?
A reason from the God of reason! sure
No pious ears such pratting can endure:
Dost' think he'll give account to every fool,
On whom he uses justice, by what rule
He doth proceed: no sure, he will not do it,
The Majesty of his Laws will not allow it.
But if thou wilt from men a reason know,
'Tis only this, our God will have it so,
That he may keep aspiring spirits low.

7. Art thou the first man that was born, and wast thou made before the hills?

This is the reason, prethee rest content

With this then, and no more thy self torment
With asking questions, why thus punished?
Why thus afflicted? why thus buffetted?
We've heard too much of such unwarrantable,
And shrewd discourse, discourse unsufferable:
Forbear then pray, for all those sad complaints
Are to no purpose, but weak arguments
Of innocence, and rather do imply
A heart replenish'd with impiety,
Which now thou labour'st to conceal, in vain,
And so bewrayst thy Conscience by thy pain.
Whence all this arguing then? this violence
On reason, to maintain thy innocence!

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What need of all this reasoning, what need
Of words, if thou be innocent indeed!
For innocence still for it self will plead.
Then, by thy favour, friend, I must demand
What, in a word wouldst have us understand
By all those brisque expressions? dost conceive,
Thy hollow talking will make us believe
That what thou, in thy passion dost expresse
Must be receiv'd as learned sentences,
And so admir'd, in future ages look,
Like the dark Riddles in some ancient Book?
Art thou of men most aged, grave, and wise?
Hadst thou a Beeing, ere the Hills did rise?

8. hast thou heard the secret council of God? and dost thou restrain wisdom to thee?

Art thou of Council to th'Almighty Lord,

Who fram'd and ordred all things by his word?
Dost thou advise him? dost thou influence
His Spirit in his Works of Providence?
Art thou the only wise man now alive?
Hast thou attain'd what all in vain do scrive
To purchase,—wisdom in perfection? can
Thy Parts advance thee 'bove the reach of man?

9. What knowest thou, that we know not? and understandest that is not in us?

Prethee, lets hear now what thou furder knowst

Than we do? of what learning canst thou boast,
Unknown to us? what Arts, or Sciences,
For all thy blustring words, dost thou professe
To understand, of which we're ignorant?
Then what's this knowledge, of which thou dost vaunt?
This extraordinar wisdom? prethee show
What are the things thou knowest, we do not know.

10. With us are both ancient, and very aged men, far older then thy father.

With us are men both ancient, and sage,

Men, that do far exceed thy Fathers age.
Men learn'd, and knowing, men of lives upright,
Men truly sober, men, whose piercing sight
None can escape; men, who distinctly know
The causes, whence all things in course do flow.
For every triffle can assign a reason,
And show that all things have their proper season,
In which they shut up, flourish, and decay,
And, with submissive reverence, obey
The orders of the first, and mightie Cause,
To whose perpetual Edicts, Rules, and Laws,
All other causes do subjection own,
And can do nothing by themselves alone,
In short, there's nothing to those men unknown.

11. Seem the consolation of God smal unto thee? is this thing strange unto thee?

Yet thou, forsooth, dost undervalue such,

As all men do, who think they know too much.
Thy self-conceited pride will not permit
Thee to believe that any has more wit
Then thou hast; hence thou dost all men despise,
And we're but very dunces in thy eyes,
But be assur'd 'tis no small thing, my friend,
That God to thee should consolation send
By such as us, men, who exactly know
Thy weaknesse, and most readily can show

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The cause of thy disease, and plainly tell
The proper remedy: men, who wish thee well,
Who pity thee, but on no terms will ly,
Who know all Arts but that of flattery:
And therefore what we speak, thou mayst believe
Is for thy good: for, though we truly grieve,
To see thee in such sad calamity,
Yet, of a truth, we cannot justify
Those rash expressions, which we hear thee use,
But as thy friends, we fain would dis-abuse
Thy wavering mind; and make thee fully know
What, in affliction Man to God doth owe.

12. Why doth thine heart take thee away? and what do thine eyes mean?

'Tis not that one should thus complain, or that

He with his Maker should expostulat,
As thou hast done, or by his looks expresse,
What inward sorrow doth his mind oppresse,
Or, with such self-conceited impudence,
Upbraid th'Almighty with his innocence.

13. That thou answerest thy God at thy pleasure, and bringest such words out of thy mouth.

Or, in his language thus prevaricat,

And with th'All-knowing-God at random prat,
As if with his familiars he did speak,
And in his passion, show himself so weak,
As to repine. and bitterly exclaim
Against Gods Justice, and so rashly blame,
That ne're too much to be admired God,
Who, though in anger he doth use the Rod;
Yet, in that anger, mercy doth abound,
As in afflictions it is always found
By those, to whom our God allows the grace
Of its right use, for still in such a case,
As from most bitter Herbs, and acid Plants,
Men use t'extract wholsome Medicaments;
So from afflictions Limbeck gently flows
True Piety.—
O then, my friend, for thy own sake forbear
Those rankling words: pray let me no more hear
Such dangerous Thunder-claps of fiery passion,
By which thou tempst thy Maker, in that fashion,
As 'tis a wonder he has all this time
Heard thee with patience: for a smaller Crime,
Many have by his justice been destroy'd,
But thou, my friend, hast all this while enjoy'd
Thy Breath, at least: and if thou understood,
How much our converse serves to do thee good:
Thou art so far from those extremities
Of misery, which from afflictions rise,
That I should rather think, in sober sense,
Thou might'st with all those triffling ills dispense,
Assisted by such comforters;—indeed
Thou merits't further to be punished,
If in these mad expressions thou proceed.

14. What is man that he should be clean, and he that is born of woman, that he should be just?

Thou just! thou clean from sin! thou innocent!

What sober person thus himself would vent?
Can any man be clean? can man be just?

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Can any thing, that has its rise from dust,
Be without blemish? can a silly creature,
That sucks Corruption from the Mothers Nature,
A creature black, with sin Original,
Before it well its self a man can call:
One, whose defect doth with its life begin,
And in the Womb becomes acquaint with sin;
Can he be clean? can such a one, as he,
For all the World be esteemed free
From all, that's evil?
Man of a Woman born, can he be clean?
Pray what by such expressions dost thou mean?
Can any thing, that's good from one proceed,
Who so much mischief to the World doth breed?
Who plagues us all with sin; that cursed root,
Which, in its season, yields no other fruit,
But sin alone, which we do soon disperss
Through all the corners of the Universe
A fruit, in which men drive a constant trade,
And toil as much, as for their daily bread,
To purchase this dear fruit; at any rate,
In this all mortals do negotiate.
But, after all this Traffique, when at last
Man, on his Death-bed doth begin to cast
Th'accounts of this same dismal trade, alace
How doth he look! when all the passages
Of his past life before him doth appear,
And he, poor soul, already dead with fear,
Sees, by account what profit he has made
Through all the course of this unlucky trade:
Sin upon Sin, Loss upon Loss! he cries
Shuts up his Books, curses this trade, and dies.
Yet is this all, that Woman doth produce,
Beseech thee, then, my friend, do not abuse
Thy self with fancies, as if any thing
That's good, from such a tainted root, can spring.

15. Behold he found no stedfastness in his saints, yea the heavens are not clean in his sight.

No, no—wee're all unclean: wee're sinful all,

No man on earth himself can upright call.
What!—while the very Saints, while travelling here,
Bedaub'd with sin did in his sight appear,
Nay even the Heavens themselves are in his eye
Grossely unclean, full of Deformity.

16. How much more is man abominable, & filthy, who drinketh iniquity, like water?

Will man pretend that he is clean? will he,

Who's sin, in the superlative degree:
Who in provocking God takes such delite,
As in his food, and sins, with appetite:
Who greedily sucks in iniquity,
Shall he pretend i'th' least to purity?

17. I will tell thee, hear me, and I will declare what I have seen.

No sure:—thou err'st, my friend, but, if thou'lt hear

What's for thy good. I freely will declare
What I have seen, and in my time have learn'd,
What with great pains, and labour I have earn'd.

18. Which wise men have told, as they heard of their fathers, and have not keeped secret.

I'le tell thee things, which prudent men of old


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Have by their Reverend Ancestors been told.
What these did not think fit to be conceal'd,
But for their childrens benefit reveal'd,
Who by learn'd Sayings, and wise Apothegms
In History have Eterniz'd their Names.

19. To whom alone the land was given, & no stranger passed through them.

Who by their Prudence did so moderate

And mannage that, which God had allocate
To them for their inheritance so well,
With such Discretion, and did so excell
I'th' art of Government, mentaining peace
With all their Neighbours, living in such case
Amongst themselves, as none durst undertake
T'invade them, or atempt i'th' least to break
Their firm confederacy, which of old
They had so founded, as nor Steel, nor Gold
Could cut that Knot: nor could the smiling tricks
Of States-men countermine their Politicks.
In short they did possess, and govern all,
As if their Land had been Allodial,
As if it had belong'd to them alone,
And, (save o'th' King of Heavens,) they held of none.

20. The wicked man is as one that traveleth continually with child, & the number of years is hid from the tyrant.

Those men have told us that the wicked are

Most miserable, in continual fear.
In pains, like those of Child-birth, still they lie
Exclaiming, in the extream agonie
Of a sad troubled conscience, which alace
Allowes them ease, scarce a small moments space.
The cruel man is never void of fear,
But fancies Death attends him every where.
For, when he calls to mind by what Oppressions
He has enlarg'd his Titles, and Possessions:
How many he has ruin'd, and undone,
And eat up all their means, since he begun
To set up for himself; how cunningly
'Has turn'd out many a goodly family,
And sent them all a begging: he from thence
Infallibly concludes.—
All hate him, curse him, do his name abhorr,
And, as they ask their alms from door to door
They tell by whose oppression they are poor.
Then when he thus reflects, and calls to mind
How hateful he's become to all mankind:
The unjust Tyrant doth not think it strange
That all the world should meditate revenge
Against their common Enemy: a man
Proscrib'd, and out-law'd by the publick Ban
Of all just pious men, who in their prayers,
With fervent zeal, and floods of bitter tears,
Accuse them to their God, and constantly
For Justice,—Justice—in Heavens Court do cry,
Against him,—then he stares, and looks about,
And even his own Domesticks he doth doubt
Upon his life have some design, and those
Who break his bread, are now become his foes.

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21. A sound of fear is in his ears, and in his prosperity the destroyer shall come upon him.

With horrour thunder-struck, with care oppress't,

This miserable soul can have no rest.
Before his eyes strange visions appear,
His mind is sore belaboured, his ear
Is still infested with a noise of fear.
A dreadful noise, like that of Passing-bell,
Which doth his nigh-approaching death foretell;
In which he's not deceiv'd, for by, and by,
(Even in the solstice of prosperity)
Down from the Mountains falls some injur'd Lord,
Who, and his hungry crew, with fire and sword,
This mighty mans Dominions invade,
And wasting all before them make a Trade
Of pillaging, appearing every where,
Like lightning, sometimes here, and sometimes there,
So through his territories nimbly fly,
Seizing his Towns, and Castles speedily:
Advancing still, in a vindictive rage,
Until in Battel with him they engage,
Defeat his Forces, put them all to flight,
Then to his glory he bids long-good-night.

22. He believeth not to return out of darkness, for he seeth the sword before him.

Thus ends the whip, and terrour of his age,

For to him so his mind did still presage,
I'th' noon-tide of his blesse: he durst not hope,
Or fancy any other horoscope
Then a most wretch'd and miserable end,
Which makes him in perpetual horrour spend
The best of all his time, enjoyes no ease,
But is disturb'd in mind, for still he sees
The raging Sword before him, and he fears
His Enemies are still about his ears.

23. He wandreth to, and fro for bread, where he may, he knoweth that the day of darkness is prepared at hand.

At length, when misery doth come indeed,

Like one, that wanders to, and fro for bread,
So doth this great man ramble every where,
And makes what shifts he can for daily fare.
Carelesse of Honour, outward Pomp, and State,
And costly Dyet, now content of what
Nature affords: a simple Peasants Food
To him is pleasant, and he finds it good.
He eats, he sleeps, no more he doth demand,
Because he knows his death is nigh at hand.

24. Affliction and anguish shall make him afraid, they shall prevail against him, as a king ready to the battel.

Anxiety, affliction, grief, and care,

Which stir up good mens hopes, make them despair,
Despair down-right, in fiery rage exclaim
'Gainst what the precious fool doth Fortune name,
And, in his humours, openly blaspheme.
Transported, drunk with fury, he cryes out,
In fits, and like a mad man runs about
The Towns, and Countrey-fields, vents all his passions
In angry wrath, and horrid execrations.
'Gainst him at length despair doth so prevail,
He becomes faint, and all his spirits fail:
Curs'd be the Stars, that rul'd my Birth, he crys,
With a strong sigh, thrusts out his Soul, and dyes.

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25. For he hath stretched out his hand against God, and made himself strong against the Almighty.

O thus let all Oppressors end! thus all

The enemies of God Almighty fall!
Let thus such men, who in prosperity
Lift up their faces, and their God defy:
Who laugh, with pleasure at Omnipotence,
And make a formal jest of Providence:
Who, in their actings, do their God deride,
And spit against the Heavens in their pride:
Let them all perish thus; O let them dye,
Without compassion, in great misery.

26. Therefore God shall run upon him, even upon his neck, against the most thick part of his shield.

For, though vain man may to the World pretend,

He's proof of judgements, can himself defend
Against th'assaults of Heaven, and proudly boasts,
In Power he's equal with the Lord of Hosts,
Our God doth smile, and for some time permits
This fool to Revel in his frantick Fits:
But, when he's blown up to the hight of pride.
And undervalues all the World beside,
Then will he fall upon him, overthrow
All his defences, bring this Champion low,
And make th'insulting Rebel understand
The difference 'twixt an Almighty-hand,
And that of Flesh: his choisest Coat of Mail
Shall not resist his thrusts, God shall prevail
'Gainst all his strength, that men may learn to know,
What great submission to their God they owe,

27. Because he hath covered his face with his fatness, and has collops in his flank.

And not imagine, in prosperity,

Because in wealth, and honour they are high,
They can the strength of our great God defy.
For, whilst in plenty we our years do waste,
Void of all sorrow, with no care oppress't,
But in our Myrtle Groves deliciously
We feed, and sleep in deep security:
Whilst hopeful Children do about us stand,
Like Guards o'th' Body, and on every hand
Our Friends, Dependants, Servants, in a row,
By their attendance do their kindnesse show,
As well as their submission, and we fear
No enemy, but all things do appear,
As tributary to our happinesse,
And we all Earthly blessings do possesse,
Then, then alace, we do become such fools,
As to forget that God Almighty rules
This lower World, and think our selves so sure
In our Possessions; as we can endure
Heav'ns wrath, and not be mov'd.—

28. Though he dwell in desolate cities and in houses which no man inhabite, but are become heaps.

But let us once but tumble in distresse,

Then we're at length obliged to confesse
That God is all in all, that he alone,
Rules all from Spade, and Shovel to the Throne.
And though those impious fools, who here despise
The Power of God, and think themselves so wise,
As they can purchase Lands in soveraignity,
And independant of Gods Majesty,

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The Princes be on Earth: may vainly dream
They're fully blessed, yet in his esteem
They are accurs'd; condemn'd, and destinate
For Wrath, and Torment, dire Revenge, and Hate.
Let them, to purchase to themselves a name
Erect stupendious Monuments of fame.
Repair wast houses, Cities desolate
Rebuild, and their design to found a seat
For them, and there accurs'd Posterity
'Spite of that Mighty God, that lives on high:

29. He shall not be rich, neither shall his substance continue, neither shall he prolong the perfection thereof in the earth.

Nay let them languish in the Golden-itch,

And by all means endeavour to be rich;
Yet shall their toil, and labour be in vain
Nor shall they have more profit for their pain
Than daily bread: nay that ere all be done
Shall be deficient too, and they anon
As in a Glass their folly shall behold,
And see on what they have bestow'd their Gold.
Those high flow'n Projects, which their aery minds
Did entertain; those fancies of all kinds
Which did their heads possess shall now be broke,
And all their notions vanish into smoak.
Their buildings none shall ever see compleat,
For all their substance shall evaporat
Before the Roofs ar set on; and these fair
And sumptuous Fabrick, to the open air
Shall be expos'd; they never shall grow old
For their Materials shall be bought and sold
To pay the Workmens Wages: and if ought
(The naked walls perhaps) remain unbought,
Why these shall be a simple Volary
Where ill-presaging Owls by nights do cry
Rooks, and Jack-dawes by day do make a noise,
And he who rais'd the Building, scarce enjoys
A covered corner in that spacious Nest,
Where he with his poor Family may rest.

30. He shall never depart out of darkness, the flames shall dry up his branches, and he shall go away with the breath of his mouth.

Where he with his poor Family may dwell,

And with sad groans, and numerous sighings tell
The story of his former life, and show
The vanity of all things here below.
Where he may teach his Children to take care,
By his example never to out-dare
Th'Almighty God: or think that any thing
Can here be bless'd to us when Heavens King
Has vow'd the contrair: or imagine that
We can be happy here at any rate,
Unless God favour us: then, with a groan,
Shut up his story, and retire alone
To some dark hole, where he intends to lie,
And pass his days in sad obscurity,
Until the time arrive that he should die.
But ere he die, he shall spread flowers, and leaves,
Temper'd with tears on all his childrens graves.
His branches thus lop't off, the Saples Trunk

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With'red, and dry, in grief, and sorrow sunk,
At length shall burst, and in a flood of Tears
O're wheml'd, shall end the Legend of his years.

31. He believeth not that he erreth in vanity, therefore vanity shall be his change.

Thus shall he die, whom, while his sun did shine,

And every thing appeared to combine
To raise his happinesse, and make him glad,
No power of Eloquence could ere perswade
That all his glory, all his gallantry
Was but meer air, and glittering vanity.
Therefore, since he such speeches would not hear,
Nor to grave admonitions give ear
By which good men endeavoured to teach
What thoughts were proper for him, and did preach
Faith, and Repentance to him every day,
But not reguarding what they all did say,
Would still continue in his high conceit,
Laugh at those serious Councellors, and treat
Their grave advices, as ridiculous,
And meer cunn'd Lessons, serving for no use,
But to keep fools and children, every where,
By such Predictions, in continual fear.
Therefore his end shall be all Vanity;
And he th'example of inconstancy
In Human Glory, laugh'd to scorn by all,
Poor, wretched, and unpitied shall fall.

32. His branch shall not be green, but shall be cut off before his day.

Poor, and bereav'd of issue he shall die,

And of him there shall be no Memory,
Only his name like Beacon shall appear
In History, to warn all men to stear
Another course than he, who wilfully
Did Ship-wrack on this Rock of Vanity.

33. God shall destroy him, as the vine her sauce-grape, and shall cast him off, as the olive doth her flower.

For as sower Grapes unpleasant to the taste,

Not worth the eating, but Hogs-food, at best,
Men use to spitt out: as the Olive tree
Doth cast her Flower; so he, who ere he be,
Who thus doth live, who thus consumes his time
Shall by our God be cast off in his Prime.

34. For the congregation of the hypocrite shall be desolate, and fire shall devour the houses of bribes.

For all the Race of those poor Souls, who hate

Their Great Creator shall be desolate.
Such as by Poling, Cheats, and Bribery
Have from the Dung-hill rais'd a family,
And become Men of Substance, by oppressions
Shall all at length from their unjust Possessions
Be by the God of justice totally
Ejected, and their masqued Villany
Shall to the World be publish'd that from thence
All men may learn to place their confidence
In God alone; and not believe that all
The Wit of Mankind can prevent their Fall
When God intends it, who did all creat
Of nothing, and can all annihilat.

35. For they conceive mischief, and bring forth vanity, and their belly hath prepared deceit.

For such men pregnant with all kind of ill,

Let them Hood-wink their conscience, as they will,
After great labour and perplexity,

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Are all delivered of meer vanity.
Of all their stale devices here's the end,
what ere they plot doth to their ruin tend.