A paraphrase on the Book of Job As likewise on the Songs of Moses, Deborah, David: On Four Select Psalms: Some Chapters of Isaiah, and the Third Chapter of Habakkuk. By Sir Richard Blackmore |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
Ch. XVII.
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| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
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| LIII. |
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Ch. XVII.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job |  |
Ch. XVII.
Corruption my consuming Flesh devours,
And Time has almost paid my number'd hours.
The opening Grave invites me to her Womb,
And in the Dust prepares to give me Room.
But clear, before I dye, just God, my Fame,
And cover my perfidious Friends with Shame:
For do not pious Scoffers here abide,
Who mock for God, and all my Groans deride?
Their sharp Reproaches vex my Soul by Day,
And chase by Night my wish'd-for Sleep away.
Would God on high would suffer me to state
My Case aright, and hear the whole Debate.
For these my Friends against th' Assaults of Sense
Have rais'd a strong impenetrable Fence.
Such Gates of Darkness ne'er to be unbarr'd,
Such Forts of gloomy Shades the Passes guard,
That Reason's strongest Forces they repel,
Entrench'd in Errors inaccessible.
But sure the Righteous God will ne'er permit,
That Men so blinded should to Judge me sit.
Those, who to flatter Heav'n their Neighbour wrong,
Shall not their Power and prosp'rous days prolong.
Destructive Suff'rings shall their Sons assail,
Whose Eyes in looking after Aid shall fail.
And Time has almost paid my number'd hours.
The opening Grave invites me to her Womb,
And in the Dust prepares to give me Room.
But clear, before I dye, just God, my Fame,
And cover my perfidious Friends with Shame:
For do not pious Scoffers here abide,
Who mock for God, and all my Groans deride?
Their sharp Reproaches vex my Soul by Day,
And chase by Night my wish'd-for Sleep away.
Would God on high would suffer me to state
My Case aright, and hear the whole Debate.
For these my Friends against th' Assaults of Sense
Have rais'd a strong impenetrable Fence.
Such Gates of Darkness ne'er to be unbarr'd,
Such Forts of gloomy Shades the Passes guard,
That Reason's strongest Forces they repel,
Entrench'd in Errors inaccessible.
But sure the Righteous God will ne'er permit,
That Men so blinded should to Judge me sit.
73
Shall not their Power and prosp'rous days prolong.
Destructive Suff'rings shall their Sons assail,
Whose Eyes in looking after Aid shall fail.
I was the People's Darling and Delight
In former times; for when I came in sight,
Thro' crowded Streets loud Acclamations rung,
They to the Tabret my loud Praises sung;
And on my Chariot Wheels transported hung.
A waving Sea of Heads was round me spred,
And still fresh Streams the gazing Deluge fed.
As I advanc'd, the eager, wond'ring Throng
Their Eye-balls strain'd, to see me pass along;
They feasted on me with their greedy Eyes,
And with Applauses fill'd th' ecchoing Skies.
In former times; for when I came in sight,
Thro' crowded Streets loud Acclamations rung,
They to the Tabret my loud Praises sung;
And on my Chariot Wheels transported hung.
A waving Sea of Heads was round me spred,
And still fresh Streams the gazing Deluge fed.
As I advanc'd, the eager, wond'ring Throng
Their Eye-balls strain'd, to see me pass along;
They feasted on me with their greedy Eyes,
And with Applauses fill'd th' ecchoing Skies.
Now, for as sad an Object I am shown;
My wondrous Troubles are Proverbial grown.
The Men who curse their Foes with deadly spite,
Wish Job's Affliction on their heads may light.
My Neighbours cry, when they my Suff'rings see,
Is Job thus chang'd? Good Heav'n's! it cannot be.
My Eyes with Sorrow sunk within my Head,
Of Light defrauded, seem already dead.
So much my Flesh and Vigour I have lost,
I seem an empty Shade, or groaning Ghost.
But the Good Man will pity, not arraign
Afflicted Job, to aggravate his Pain.
He will revere this Providential Turn,
Not judge my Person, but my Suff'rings mourn.
Tho' he with wonder shall observe the Just,
Are by th' Almighty trodden in the Dust,
Yet he with sacred Indignation prest,
Shall shun the Wicked, and his way detest.
He for afflicted Virtue shall declare,
And Innocence to prosp'rous Sin prefer.
He shall the Heav'nly Path of Justice keep,
However rough, embarast, dark and steep.
Let him by bloody Out-laws be opprest,
And Robbers, who the Way to Heav'n infest;
Let Persecution's blackest Storm arise,
And with a dismal Night deform the Skies;
Let stern Affliction muster in the Air
Her fiercest Troops, to drive him to despair;
Let bitter Tongues their sharp Reproaches spend,
And impious Scoffers galling Arrows send;
The God-like Trav'ller shall his Path pursue,
Whose very Suff'rings shall his Hopes renew.
He'll with undaunted Courage make his way;
Danger his Heart shall strengthen, not dismay.
My wondrous Troubles are Proverbial grown.
The Men who curse their Foes with deadly spite,
Wish Job's Affliction on their heads may light.
My Neighbours cry, when they my Suff'rings see,
Is Job thus chang'd? Good Heav'n's! it cannot be.
My Eyes with Sorrow sunk within my Head,
Of Light defrauded, seem already dead.
So much my Flesh and Vigour I have lost,
I seem an empty Shade, or groaning Ghost.
But the Good Man will pity, not arraign
Afflicted Job, to aggravate his Pain.
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Not judge my Person, but my Suff'rings mourn.
Tho' he with wonder shall observe the Just,
Are by th' Almighty trodden in the Dust,
Yet he with sacred Indignation prest,
Shall shun the Wicked, and his way detest.
He for afflicted Virtue shall declare,
And Innocence to prosp'rous Sin prefer.
He shall the Heav'nly Path of Justice keep,
However rough, embarast, dark and steep.
Let him by bloody Out-laws be opprest,
And Robbers, who the Way to Heav'n infest;
Let Persecution's blackest Storm arise,
And with a dismal Night deform the Skies;
Let stern Affliction muster in the Air
Her fiercest Troops, to drive him to despair;
Let bitter Tongues their sharp Reproaches spend,
And impious Scoffers galling Arrows send;
The God-like Trav'ller shall his Path pursue,
Whose very Suff'rings shall his Hopes renew.
He'll with undaunted Courage make his way;
Danger his Heart shall strengthen, not dismay.
But you my Friends, to my Discourse attend,
And weigh my Words your Errors to amend.
For hitherto I can't among you find,
One of a clear, judicious, equal Mind.
You would in vain my Expectations raise,
(If I Repent) of future prosp'rous Days.
For my appointed Hours are almost past,
My Hopes and Projects Death will quickly blast.
The Lamp of Life burns dimly in my Breast,
Soon from its beating toil my weary Heart will rest.
If for a happy Change you lay a Scheme,
You but amuse me with an empty Dream,
Terrestrial Joys are but an idle Theme.
With my Designs and anxious Thoughts I part,
Farewel ye Cares, that once possest my Heart.
I to my Sorrows only can attend,
In groans the Day, in groans the Night I spend.
If Grief and Woe denominate the Night,
I ne'er enjoy the Day, or see the Light.
The gloomy Terrors that my Soul surround,
Efface its marks, and Day with Night confound.
And weigh my Words your Errors to amend.
For hitherto I can't among you find,
One of a clear, judicious, equal Mind.
You would in vain my Expectations raise,
(If I Repent) of future prosp'rous Days.
75
My Hopes and Projects Death will quickly blast.
The Lamp of Life burns dimly in my Breast,
Soon from its beating toil my weary Heart will rest.
If for a happy Change you lay a Scheme,
You but amuse me with an empty Dream,
Terrestrial Joys are but an idle Theme.
With my Designs and anxious Thoughts I part,
Farewel ye Cares, that once possest my Heart.
I to my Sorrows only can attend,
In groans the Day, in groans the Night I spend.
If Grief and Woe denominate the Night,
I ne'er enjoy the Day, or see the Light.
The gloomy Terrors that my Soul surround,
Efface its marks, and Day with Night confound.
Alass 'tis madness to expect that Rest
And Restoration, which my Friends suggest;
For by a fixt, irrevocable Doom,
My Grave's prepar'd, my everlasting Home:
Where friendly Death has laid my easy Bed,
With Dust beneath, around with Darkness spread.
I to the Grave have said, O Parent Grave,
Me of thy Dust, a wretched Offspring save.
To take me in, thy gloomy Arms extend,
Thou art my Father, O be now my Friend;
And me from hostile Life and Light defend.
I to the Worm have said, my Brother Worm,
From whom I differ but in Shape and Form;
Submitted to thy Power, I soon must lay
This loathsome Heap of putrifying Clay.
Where's then the Hope which you pretend to give,
That I may yet in Peace and Pleasure live,
If I Repent, to see it you must go
Down to the Grave, and the Cold Shades below.
There you may see how all my Hopes and I,
In the same Grave together buried lye:
And Restoration, which my Friends suggest;
For by a fixt, irrevocable Doom,
My Grave's prepar'd, my everlasting Home:
Where friendly Death has laid my easy Bed,
With Dust beneath, around with Darkness spread.
I to the Grave have said, O Parent Grave,
Me of thy Dust, a wretched Offspring save.
To take me in, thy gloomy Arms extend,
Thou art my Father, O be now my Friend;
And me from hostile Life and Light defend.
I to the Worm have said, my Brother Worm,
From whom I differ but in Shape and Form;
76
This loathsome Heap of putrifying Clay.
Where's then the Hope which you pretend to give,
That I may yet in Peace and Pleasure live,
If I Repent, to see it you must go
Down to the Grave, and the Cold Shades below.
There you may see how all my Hopes and I,
In the same Grave together buried lye:
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Ch. XVII.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job | |