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. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
Ch. XX.
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| 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. XX.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job |  |
Ch. XX.
He said, and Zophar thus in heat reply'd:
Such is thy Obstinacy, such thy Pride;
With such disdain thou dost our Reasons slight,
And art so careful to exclude the Light;
All thy own Words so full and weighty seem
To thee, sufficient in thy own esteem:
That I no farther Argument design'd,
To Cure a Man so obstinately Blind.
But since transported to a wild excess,
Thou dost against thy Friends such Threats express;
Since thou dost Heav'n with thy Complaints alarm,
And mark us out for God's vindictive Arm;
I must my setled Resolution break;
For thus provok'd, who can forbear to speak?
Such is thy Obstinacy, such thy Pride;
85
And art so careful to exclude the Light;
All thy own Words so full and weighty seem
To thee, sufficient in thy own esteem:
That I no farther Argument design'd,
To Cure a Man so obstinately Blind.
But since transported to a wild excess,
Thou dost against thy Friends such Threats express;
Since thou dost Heav'n with thy Complaints alarm,
And mark us out for God's vindictive Arm;
I must my setled Resolution break;
For thus provok'd, who can forbear to speak?
Thou dost upbraid us, as of Sense bereft,
Without Compassion, without Justice left.
That we Contempt and Shame would on thee pour,
And like outrageous Beasts thy Life devour.
But I that fully know thy gross mistake,
Can't silent sit, but must an Answer make.
Hast thou, who mak'st to Wisdom such pretence,
Not yet remark'd the Course of Providence?
How since the Earth's Foundations first were laid,
Thro' all the Revolutions Time has made,
The Triumphs of th' unjust have quickly past,
And his vain Joys did but a moment last.
Tho' his bright Head above the Clouds he reers,
And mingles Lustre with contiguous Stars,
O'erturn'd and ruin'd he deserts the Skies,
And in the Dust dispers'd in Fragments lies.
Th' unrighteous perish with a swift decay,
Like his own Ordure cast with Scorn away.
Those who before his Glory did admire,
Now seiz'd with Wonder, for his Place enquire.
Astonish'd, they these questions oft repeat,
Where can we find him now? where is his Seat?
His Fame and short-liv'd Glory disappear,
Like thin Illusions form'd of gawdy Air.
Like wanton Dreams that in the Fancy play,
Or empty Phantomes that by Twilight stray.
The Eye that saw him ne'er shall see him more,
Ne'er shall his House again unfold to him her Door.
His Children strive t'appease the Poor in vain,
These of their Suff'rings publiquely complain;
Those to restore their Substance are compell'd,
Which from the Poor their griping Father held.
With Vice decrepit, he perceives within,
The sad effects of his past youthful Sin.
His wasted Flesh and putrifying Bones,
Force him to utter never-ceasing moans.
As he to Sin did with Affection cleave,
So Sin too faithful him shall never leave.
The guilty marks of his unbridled Lust,
Are still his sad Companions in the Dust.
Tho' Vice is by him greedily embrac't,
And proves most sweet and grateful to his taste;
Tho' the delicious Morsel, with his Tongue
He rolls about, the Pleasure to prolong;
Yet the sweet Meat he swallow'd down so slow,
Does in his Bowels Gall and Wormwood grow.
It does like Poison, rage along his Veins,
And gripes and racks him with tormenting pains.
Without Compassion, without Justice left.
That we Contempt and Shame would on thee pour,
And like outrageous Beasts thy Life devour.
But I that fully know thy gross mistake,
Can't silent sit, but must an Answer make.
Hast thou, who mak'st to Wisdom such pretence,
Not yet remark'd the Course of Providence?
How since the Earth's Foundations first were laid,
Thro' all the Revolutions Time has made,
The Triumphs of th' unjust have quickly past,
And his vain Joys did but a moment last.
Tho' his bright Head above the Clouds he reers,
And mingles Lustre with contiguous Stars,
O'erturn'd and ruin'd he deserts the Skies,
And in the Dust dispers'd in Fragments lies.
86
Like his own Ordure cast with Scorn away.
Those who before his Glory did admire,
Now seiz'd with Wonder, for his Place enquire.
Astonish'd, they these questions oft repeat,
Where can we find him now? where is his Seat?
His Fame and short-liv'd Glory disappear,
Like thin Illusions form'd of gawdy Air.
Like wanton Dreams that in the Fancy play,
Or empty Phantomes that by Twilight stray.
The Eye that saw him ne'er shall see him more,
Ne'er shall his House again unfold to him her Door.
His Children strive t'appease the Poor in vain,
These of their Suff'rings publiquely complain;
Those to restore their Substance are compell'd,
Which from the Poor their griping Father held.
With Vice decrepit, he perceives within,
The sad effects of his past youthful Sin.
His wasted Flesh and putrifying Bones,
Force him to utter never-ceasing moans.
As he to Sin did with Affection cleave,
So Sin too faithful him shall never leave.
The guilty marks of his unbridled Lust,
Are still his sad Companions in the Dust.
Tho' Vice is by him greedily embrac't,
And proves most sweet and grateful to his taste;
Tho' the delicious Morsel, with his Tongue
He rolls about, the Pleasure to prolong;
Yet the sweet Meat he swallow'd down so slow,
Does in his Bowels Gall and Wormwood grow.
87
And gripes and racks him with tormenting pains.
What if th' Oppressor Riches has devour'd,
And down his Throat unmeasur'd Treasure pour'd?
He cannot long th' unrighteous Load retain,
His loathing Stomach with regret and pain,
Shall cast the precious Surfeit up again.
God shall his Belly of its Prey beguil,
And from his Bowels wrest the wealthy Spoil.
The profitable and delightful Sin,
Which he has suck'd with so much pleasure in,
Shall like a Viper gnaw and tare his Heart,
And wound his Entrails, like a poison'd Dart.
The Streams of Joy, and Rivers of Delight,
Which he believ'd, would all his toil requite,
Shall disappoint his hope, and in their stead,
Amazing Floods of Sorrow shall succeed.
For that his Neighbours wrongs may be redrest,
Which he by Fraud or Violence opprest,
He shall refund his wicked Wealth, and more
Shall give what justly was his own before.
And down his Throat unmeasur'd Treasure pour'd?
He cannot long th' unrighteous Load retain,
His loathing Stomach with regret and pain,
Shall cast the precious Surfeit up again.
God shall his Belly of its Prey beguil,
And from his Bowels wrest the wealthy Spoil.
The profitable and delightful Sin,
Which he has suck'd with so much pleasure in,
Shall like a Viper gnaw and tare his Heart,
And wound his Entrails, like a poison'd Dart.
The Streams of Joy, and Rivers of Delight,
Which he believ'd, would all his toil requite,
Shall disappoint his hope, and in their stead,
Amazing Floods of Sorrow shall succeed.
For that his Neighbours wrongs may be redrest,
Which he by Fraud or Violence opprest,
He shall refund his wicked Wealth, and more
Shall give what justly was his own before.
Tho' he may Riches gorge, the painful Spoil,
In massy Vomit quickly will recoil.
The time it stays the bloated Glutton lies
Distended to a vast Hydropic Size;
But he no Strength or Nourishment shall reap
From the crude Mass, and undigested heap.
Because the Poor despairing he has left,
Whom he by Rapine of his Goods bereft.
Because by open, or by secret Guilt,
The Dwelling he has seiz'd another built.
Therefore his inward Gripes and conscious Fear,
With self-revenging Pains his heart shall tare.
Convulsive Throws, and raging Agonies,
Shall rack his Soul, and on his Bowels seize.
The Riches he so eagerly did crave,
With all his watchful Care he shall not save.
His Heir, what Treasure he has left behind
Shall ne'er enquire, for none he'll hope to find.
When he shall most with Power and Wealth abound,
With Guards encompass'd, and with Empire crown'd,
Then suddain Mischiefs shall his Seat surround.
Fierce Bands of Spoilers shall his Lands invade,
And far away his Wealth shall be convey'd.
When he designs his Riches to enjoy,
And all his Senses with Delights to cloy,
A dismal storm of Wrath Divine shall rise,
And gath'ring Vengeance shall disturb the Skies.
While he is feasting, free from Fear or Care,
The Heav'n's shall hurl down unexpected War.
God on his Head shall such a Tempest pour,
As did thy Children in their Mirth devour.
His Consternation and distracting Fear,
Shall make him fly to scape the Sword and Spear;
But a swift Arrow from an Iron Bow
Shall overtake, and strike the Rebel thro'.
Officious Friends to heal his wounded Veins,
Shall draw the bloody Weapon from his Reins,
Whose glitt'ring point distain'd with issuing Gall,
Shows certain Death attends his suddain fall.
He shall in raging Pangs and Horror lye,
Hopeless of Life, and yet afraid to dye.
Against him God shall Storms and Plagues provide,
And stores of Wrath in secret places hide.
He his dark Caves and Magazines shall stow,
With chosen Vengeance and collected Woe.
From cleaving Clouds a fiery Tempest pour'd,
Like that which on the Hills thy Flocks devour'd,
Shall on his Substance and his House descend,
And to destroy the Wretch its Fury spend.
His Progeny, if any shall remain,
Shall pass their dismal Days in Grief and Pain.
Thus Heav'n by dreadful Judgments shall reveal,
The Wickedness he did with Care conceal.
The Earth shall all her Elements unite,
Muster her Armies, and against him Fight.
The Substance he has gain'd shall flow away,
Like rapid Torrents, in that dreadful Day,
When God provok'd by all his Crimes, shall come
In Storms of Wrath th' Oppressor to consume.
God to th' unjust this Portion shall divide,
This sad Inheritance is on him ty'd;
He's the right Heir, with him it shall abide.
In massy Vomit quickly will recoil.
The time it stays the bloated Glutton lies
Distended to a vast Hydropic Size;
But he no Strength or Nourishment shall reap
From the crude Mass, and undigested heap.
88
Whom he by Rapine of his Goods bereft.
Because by open, or by secret Guilt,
The Dwelling he has seiz'd another built.
Therefore his inward Gripes and conscious Fear,
With self-revenging Pains his heart shall tare.
Convulsive Throws, and raging Agonies,
Shall rack his Soul, and on his Bowels seize.
The Riches he so eagerly did crave,
With all his watchful Care he shall not save.
His Heir, what Treasure he has left behind
Shall ne'er enquire, for none he'll hope to find.
When he shall most with Power and Wealth abound,
With Guards encompass'd, and with Empire crown'd,
Then suddain Mischiefs shall his Seat surround.
Fierce Bands of Spoilers shall his Lands invade,
And far away his Wealth shall be convey'd.
When he designs his Riches to enjoy,
And all his Senses with Delights to cloy,
A dismal storm of Wrath Divine shall rise,
And gath'ring Vengeance shall disturb the Skies.
While he is feasting, free from Fear or Care,
The Heav'n's shall hurl down unexpected War.
God on his Head shall such a Tempest pour,
As did thy Children in their Mirth devour.
His Consternation and distracting Fear,
Shall make him fly to scape the Sword and Spear;
But a swift Arrow from an Iron Bow
Shall overtake, and strike the Rebel thro'.
89
Shall draw the bloody Weapon from his Reins,
Whose glitt'ring point distain'd with issuing Gall,
Shows certain Death attends his suddain fall.
He shall in raging Pangs and Horror lye,
Hopeless of Life, and yet afraid to dye.
Against him God shall Storms and Plagues provide,
And stores of Wrath in secret places hide.
He his dark Caves and Magazines shall stow,
With chosen Vengeance and collected Woe.
From cleaving Clouds a fiery Tempest pour'd,
Like that which on the Hills thy Flocks devour'd,
Shall on his Substance and his House descend,
And to destroy the Wretch its Fury spend.
His Progeny, if any shall remain,
Shall pass their dismal Days in Grief and Pain.
Thus Heav'n by dreadful Judgments shall reveal,
The Wickedness he did with Care conceal.
The Earth shall all her Elements unite,
Muster her Armies, and against him Fight.
The Substance he has gain'd shall flow away,
Like rapid Torrents, in that dreadful Day,
When God provok'd by all his Crimes, shall come
In Storms of Wrath th' Oppressor to consume.
God to th' unjust this Portion shall divide,
This sad Inheritance is on him ty'd;
He's the right Heir, with him it shall abide.
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Ch. XX.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job | |