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 |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
Ch. XIX.
|
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
|
|
| LIII. |
 |
Ch. XIX.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job |  |
Ch. XIX.
Then Job reply'd:
How long will you my righteous Cause perplex?
How long my Ears with idle Speeches vex?
Must Answers void of Sense and Argument,
And grave Impertinence my Soul torment?
You wound me with your contumelious words,
And slanders sharper than the keenest Swords.
Job in Affliction you refuse to know,
And a shy Stranger's unconcernness show.
Grant I have sinn'd, yet in my Flesh I bear
Strokes of vindictive Justice so severe,
That I with Reason might from Friends expect
Commiseration, not such proud neglect.
If you with such censorious Arrogance,
And haughty words against me will advance;
If you will still such black Indictments read,
If you will still my Innocence implead,
Consider coolly my afflicted State;
Should your imperious scorn new Grief create,
And to th' unequal load add greater weight?
How long my Ears with idle Speeches vex?
Must Answers void of Sense and Argument,
And grave Impertinence my Soul torment?
You wound me with your contumelious words,
And slanders sharper than the keenest Swords.
80
And a shy Stranger's unconcernness show.
Grant I have sinn'd, yet in my Flesh I bear
Strokes of vindictive Justice so severe,
That I with Reason might from Friends expect
Commiseration, not such proud neglect.
If you with such censorious Arrogance,
And haughty words against me will advance;
If you will still such black Indictments read,
If you will still my Innocence implead,
Consider coolly my afflicted State;
Should your imperious scorn new Grief create,
And to th' unequal load add greater weight?
I by th' Almighty's Arm am overthrown,
And prest beneath his heavy Vengeance groan.
Inevitable Snares his hand has set,
And drawn around me his destructive Net.
To Heav'n with fruitless Accents I complain
Of this hard measure, this excess of Pain,
And Cry to be redress'd, but Cry in vain.
By Heav'n forsaken, I am left a Prey
To Woes, that me encompass every way.
Inexorably Deaf th' Almighty stands,
Rejects my Prayer, and minds not my Demands.
He in my Paths has such Obstructions laid,
And fenc'd me in with such a close Blockade;
That I must ever lye without Relief
In this dark Prison, this Strong-hold of Grief.
No golden thread of Light the way will show,
And let me thro' this Labyrinth of Woe.
Of all my Glory I am stript, the Crown
From my dishonour'd Head is fallen down;
I've lost my Power, my Children, my Renown.
I'm perfectly destroy'd, I'm lost, undone
And never to return, my Hope is gone.
A miserable Object here I lye,
A Wretch that would not live, and cannot dye.
And prest beneath his heavy Vengeance groan.
Inevitable Snares his hand has set,
And drawn around me his destructive Net.
To Heav'n with fruitless Accents I complain
Of this hard measure, this excess of Pain,
And Cry to be redress'd, but Cry in vain.
By Heav'n forsaken, I am left a Prey
To Woes, that me encompass every way.
Inexorably Deaf th' Almighty stands,
Rejects my Prayer, and minds not my Demands.
He in my Paths has such Obstructions laid,
And fenc'd me in with such a close Blockade;
That I must ever lye without Relief
In this dark Prison, this Strong-hold of Grief.
81
And let me thro' this Labyrinth of Woe.
Of all my Glory I am stript, the Crown
From my dishonour'd Head is fallen down;
I've lost my Power, my Children, my Renown.
I'm perfectly destroy'd, I'm lost, undone
And never to return, my Hope is gone.
A miserable Object here I lye,
A Wretch that would not live, and cannot dye.
His Fury kindles of its own accord,
And unprovok'd, he waves his glitt'ring Sword;
Against me as his Foe, he throws his Dart,
And yet he knows my Zeal, and upright Heart.
Black Troops of Suff'rings, Regimented Woes
In Battle drawn, their swarming Throngs disclose;
On me they come, and marking out the Ground,
Th' Infernal Legions lye encamp'd around.
Brethren and Kindred treat me as unknown,
Break Nature's Bonds, and their own Blood disown.
Familiar Friends, who kindly me embrac't,
Forget me now, and all our Friendship past.
Those of my Houshold in Rebellion rise,
Mock me their Lord, and my Commands despise.
I to my Servant for Assistance cry,
He minds me not, but Scoffing passes by,
And lets me helpless and neglected lye.
My sore Disease does from my Presence fright
My Wife, and makes her to abhor my sight.
Tho' I my earnest Supplication make,
And beg and pray for our dear Childrens sake,
Those tender Pledges of our mutual Love,
Yet no entreaties her Compassion move.
She will not stay to help me in distress,
And by condoling words her Love express.
Disdainful Youth and Children me despise,
Tho' to salute them, from my Seat I rise.
My bosom Friends, whom chiefly I before
Esteem'd and lov'd, now chiefly me abhor.
My Skin and Flesh are perish'd from the Bone,
The Boils have spar'd my Mouth and Lips alone,
To let me make my lamentable moan.
And unprovok'd, he waves his glitt'ring Sword;
Against me as his Foe, he throws his Dart,
And yet he knows my Zeal, and upright Heart.
Black Troops of Suff'rings, Regimented Woes
In Battle drawn, their swarming Throngs disclose;
On me they come, and marking out the Ground,
Th' Infernal Legions lye encamp'd around.
Brethren and Kindred treat me as unknown,
Break Nature's Bonds, and their own Blood disown.
Familiar Friends, who kindly me embrac't,
Forget me now, and all our Friendship past.
Those of my Houshold in Rebellion rise,
Mock me their Lord, and my Commands despise.
I to my Servant for Assistance cry,
He minds me not, but Scoffing passes by,
And lets me helpless and neglected lye.
My sore Disease does from my Presence fright
My Wife, and makes her to abhor my sight.
82
And beg and pray for our dear Childrens sake,
Those tender Pledges of our mutual Love,
Yet no entreaties her Compassion move.
She will not stay to help me in distress,
And by condoling words her Love express.
Disdainful Youth and Children me despise,
Tho' to salute them, from my Seat I rise.
My bosom Friends, whom chiefly I before
Esteem'd and lov'd, now chiefly me abhor.
My Skin and Flesh are perish'd from the Bone,
The Boils have spar'd my Mouth and Lips alone,
To let me make my lamentable moan.
Some Pity, O my Friends, some Pity take
On my distress, for antient Friendship's sake.
I am abandon'd, and despairing left,
Of Riches, Honour, Children, Friends bereft.
Remark the grievous Wounds my sore Disease
Has made thro' all my Flesh, but what are these
Compar'd with those, which in my Soul I feel,
Inflicted by th' Almighty's fatal Steel?
O, then in soft Compassion's Arms relent,
Retract your Speeches, and my Fate lament.
Will you assume the Priviledge of God,
And when you please, afflict me with your Rod?
Inhumane Friends! say, does it not suffice,
That all consum'd with pain my Body lies;
But you my Soul with ill Discourses wound,
Empty of Sense, tho' they with Gall abound.
On my distress, for antient Friendship's sake.
I am abandon'd, and despairing left,
Of Riches, Honour, Children, Friends bereft.
Remark the grievous Wounds my sore Disease
Has made thro' all my Flesh, but what are these
Compar'd with those, which in my Soul I feel,
Inflicted by th' Almighty's fatal Steel?
O, then in soft Compassion's Arms relent,
Retract your Speeches, and my Fate lament.
Will you assume the Priviledge of God,
And when you please, afflict me with your Rod?
Inhumane Friends! say, does it not suffice,
That all consum'd with pain my Body lies;
But you my Soul with ill Discourses wound,
Empty of Sense, tho' they with Gall abound.
83
O, that my Speech was written, that my Words
Were Register'd, and kept in safe Records!
O, that an Iron Pen's repeated stroke,
Would grave deep Furrows in the Marble Rock!
Let Letters fill them up of inlaid Lead,
That all to come may my Profession read.
I solemnly pronounce, that I believe
That my Redeemer does for ever live.
When future Ages shall their Circuit end,
And Bankrupt Time shall its last Minute spend,
Then he from Heav'n in Triumph shall descend.
He on the Surface of the Earth shall stand,
And from the Grave his Captive Saints demand.
The slumb'ring Dead shall waken at his Call,
And from their Limbs their Leaden Chains shall fall.
Victorious Life at his Command shall flee
To vanquish Death, and set her Pris'ners free.
It shall new warmth and vital Vigour spread,
Thro' all the cold Apartments of the Dead.
It shall in Triumph march thro' Shades beneath,
Thro' all the dusty Galleries of Death.
Th' invading Conquerour shall Sack the Grave,
Force every Tomb, and rescue ev'ry Slave.
Destruction's Empire shall no longer last,
Death from her sad Dominions shall be chas't,
And Desolation laid for ever wast.
From opening Tombs th' enliven'd Dead shall rise,
And to enjoy the Light lift up their wond'ring eyes.
Tho' Worms and Putrefaction shall consume
This mortal Body in the silent Tomb,
I shall revive, and from the Grave arise,
And see my God with these corporeal Eyes.
I for my Self shall see the blessed sight,
For my own Profit, for my vast Delight.
He shall my Virtue from your Slanders clear,
Assert my Cause, and Job pronounce sincere.
This is th' unshaken Pillar of my Hope,
This does my Soul opprest with Sorrow prop;
That tho', as I have said, the rav'ning Worm
Shall eat my Flesh, and break this mortal Form,
My reunited Parts I shall assume,
When my Redeemer does to Judgment come,
For ever to be clear'd by an impartial Doom.
Were Register'd, and kept in safe Records!
O, that an Iron Pen's repeated stroke,
Would grave deep Furrows in the Marble Rock!
Let Letters fill them up of inlaid Lead,
That all to come may my Profession read.
I solemnly pronounce, that I believe
That my Redeemer does for ever live.
When future Ages shall their Circuit end,
And Bankrupt Time shall its last Minute spend,
Then he from Heav'n in Triumph shall descend.
He on the Surface of the Earth shall stand,
And from the Grave his Captive Saints demand.
The slumb'ring Dead shall waken at his Call,
And from their Limbs their Leaden Chains shall fall.
Victorious Life at his Command shall flee
To vanquish Death, and set her Pris'ners free.
It shall new warmth and vital Vigour spread,
Thro' all the cold Apartments of the Dead.
It shall in Triumph march thro' Shades beneath,
Thro' all the dusty Galleries of Death.
Th' invading Conquerour shall Sack the Grave,
Force every Tomb, and rescue ev'ry Slave.
Destruction's Empire shall no longer last,
Death from her sad Dominions shall be chas't,
And Desolation laid for ever wast.
From opening Tombs th' enliven'd Dead shall rise,
And to enjoy the Light lift up their wond'ring eyes.
84
This mortal Body in the silent Tomb,
I shall revive, and from the Grave arise,
And see my God with these corporeal Eyes.
I for my Self shall see the blessed sight,
For my own Profit, for my vast Delight.
He shall my Virtue from your Slanders clear,
Assert my Cause, and Job pronounce sincere.
This is th' unshaken Pillar of my Hope,
This does my Soul opprest with Sorrow prop;
That tho', as I have said, the rav'ning Worm
Shall eat my Flesh, and break this mortal Form,
My reunited Parts I shall assume,
When my Redeemer does to Judgment come,
For ever to be clear'd by an impartial Doom.
But you my Friends, no doubt will still aver,
That Persecuting me you do not err.
You'll say, that in my Conduct may be found,
For your Censorious words abundant ground.
But of th' Almighty's Justice be afraid,
His dreadful Vengeance will your Heads invade.
He will from Heav'n consuming Wrath reveal,
Against all fierce, uncharitable Zeal.
The Day is coming, when the Judge supream
Will your rash Words and Cruelty condemn.
That Persecuting me you do not err.
You'll say, that in my Conduct may be found,
For your Censorious words abundant ground.
But of th' Almighty's Justice be afraid,
His dreadful Vengeance will your Heads invade.
He will from Heav'n consuming Wrath reveal,
Against all fierce, uncharitable Zeal.
The Day is coming, when the Judge supream
Will your rash Words and Cruelty condemn.
|
Ch. XIX.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job | |