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. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
Ch. XXVI.
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| 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. XXVI.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job |  |
Ch. XXVI.
Then pious Job did Bildad thus bespeak:
To chear the Mourner, and to help the weak
Thou hast a happy, masterly Address,
A charming way, that ne'er can miss Success.
How pertinent, how clear is thy discourse,
No sullen Sorrow can resist its force.
Thy blest Instructions, and thy grave Advice,
Can teach the Blind, and make the stupid Wise.
Display'd by thy Divine Discourse I find
A Heav'nly Day irradiates my Mind.
Thou hast thy point by solid Reason prov'd,
And like an Oracle, all doubts remov'd.
What knowing Spirit has thy Bosom fir'd,
For thou hast argu'd, as a Man inspir'd?
But say to whom dost thou address thy Speech?
Am I so weak, and of so short a reach,
That I must still be taught the Common Theme
Of God's Imperial Sway, and Power supreme?
I could th' Almighty's wondrous Works with ease
Like you recite, as for example these.
To chear the Mourner, and to help the weak
Thou hast a happy, masterly Address,
A charming way, that ne'er can miss Success.
How pertinent, how clear is thy discourse,
No sullen Sorrow can resist its force.
Thy blest Instructions, and thy grave Advice,
Can teach the Blind, and make the stupid Wise.
Display'd by thy Divine Discourse I find
A Heav'nly Day irradiates my Mind.
Thou hast thy point by solid Reason prov'd,
And like an Oracle, all doubts remov'd.
114
For thou hast argu'd, as a Man inspir'd?
But say to whom dost thou address thy Speech?
Am I so weak, and of so short a reach,
That I must still be taught the Common Theme
Of God's Imperial Sway, and Power supreme?
I could th' Almighty's wondrous Works with ease
Like you recite, as for example these.
He all the wanton Monsters form'd that play,
And bound above the Bosom of the Sea;
Wild Water-Gyants, hideous Forms that reign
Lords of the vast, inhospitable Main:
A salvage Race that range the liquid Fields,
And fill with Rapine all the wavy Wilds.
All the mute Nations of the deep Abyss,
And Finny People of the Floods are his.
To hide from God its sad Inhabitants,
And dusky Realms, Hell thicker Darkness wants.
Compacted Shadows, and substantial Night
Elude the Sun's, but not th' Almighty's Sight.
Death does in vain her sable Covering spread,
And in her secret Vaults lock up the Dead:
Th' Almighty's Eye does all her Spoils survey,
And no distinction knows of Night or Day.
He o'er the empty Space displays on high
The blue Expansion of the Northern Sky.
He hangs the pond'rous Earth in liquid Air,
And his Command and Providential Care,
Are the sole Pillars that support it there.
He bids the loose and fluid Clouds sustain
Imprison'd Tempests, and suspend the Rain.
Distended with the Waters in 'em pent,
Their Wombs hang low in Air, but are not rent.
But then at his Command, successive Drops
Distill from Heav'n, and crown the Farmer's Hopes.
Lest his high Throne above expression bright,
With deadly Glory should oppress our sight,
To break the dazling Force, he draws a Skreen
Of sable Shades, and spreads his Clouds between.
He raises rocky Bounds around the Deep,
And does the raging Waves in Prison keep.
That, whilst as order'd by Alternate sway,
The Sun and Moon shall rule the Night and Day;
The Foaming Surges rolling o'er the Strand,
Might not a Deluge spread, and drown the Land.
The Hills and Mountains whose aspiring tops
Appear the Pillars, and unshaken props
Reer'd to sustain the Heav'n's expanded Roof,
Tremble with Fear, and shake at his Reproof.
He with his mighty Power the Sea divides,
And ploughs deep Furrows in its wounded Sides.
At his Command the threatning Billows rise,
Mix Waters with the Clouds, and lave with foam the Skies.
But in a moment he corrects their Pride,
And bids the Sea repel her swelling Tide.
Uproar is husht, the Ocean at his Frown
Shrinks in, and calls it's tow'ring Surges down.
The trembling Waves creep softly to the Shore,
And Tempests over-aw'd no longer roar.
The Heav'nly Spheres around in Order turn'd,
With clust'ring Constellations he adorn'd.
He the great Serpent form'd, and bid him rowl
His Starry Volumes round the Northern Pole.
These of his Works are part, but still I own
To us his Wonders are but little known.
To such extent who can his Reason stretch,
As his vast Power and Providence can reach?
His boundless Wisdom who can comprehend?
Who will to search the dark Abyss descend?
Who can his Wonders number, who declare
Of Energy divine the utmost Sphere?
And bound above the Bosom of the Sea;
Wild Water-Gyants, hideous Forms that reign
Lords of the vast, inhospitable Main:
A salvage Race that range the liquid Fields,
And fill with Rapine all the wavy Wilds.
All the mute Nations of the deep Abyss,
And Finny People of the Floods are his.
To hide from God its sad Inhabitants,
And dusky Realms, Hell thicker Darkness wants.
Compacted Shadows, and substantial Night
Elude the Sun's, but not th' Almighty's Sight.
Death does in vain her sable Covering spread,
And in her secret Vaults lock up the Dead:
Th' Almighty's Eye does all her Spoils survey,
And no distinction knows of Night or Day.
He o'er the empty Space displays on high
The blue Expansion of the Northern Sky.
He hangs the pond'rous Earth in liquid Air,
And his Command and Providential Care,
Are the sole Pillars that support it there.
115
Imprison'd Tempests, and suspend the Rain.
Distended with the Waters in 'em pent,
Their Wombs hang low in Air, but are not rent.
But then at his Command, successive Drops
Distill from Heav'n, and crown the Farmer's Hopes.
Lest his high Throne above expression bright,
With deadly Glory should oppress our sight,
To break the dazling Force, he draws a Skreen
Of sable Shades, and spreads his Clouds between.
He raises rocky Bounds around the Deep,
And does the raging Waves in Prison keep.
That, whilst as order'd by Alternate sway,
The Sun and Moon shall rule the Night and Day;
The Foaming Surges rolling o'er the Strand,
Might not a Deluge spread, and drown the Land.
The Hills and Mountains whose aspiring tops
Appear the Pillars, and unshaken props
Reer'd to sustain the Heav'n's expanded Roof,
Tremble with Fear, and shake at his Reproof.
He with his mighty Power the Sea divides,
And ploughs deep Furrows in its wounded Sides.
At his Command the threatning Billows rise,
Mix Waters with the Clouds, and lave with foam the Skies.
But in a moment he corrects their Pride,
And bids the Sea repel her swelling Tide.
Uproar is husht, the Ocean at his Frown
Shrinks in, and calls it's tow'ring Surges down.
The trembling Waves creep softly to the Shore,
And Tempests over-aw'd no longer roar.
116
With clust'ring Constellations he adorn'd.
He the great Serpent form'd, and bid him rowl
His Starry Volumes round the Northern Pole.
These of his Works are part, but still I own
To us his Wonders are but little known.
To such extent who can his Reason stretch,
As his vast Power and Providence can reach?
His boundless Wisdom who can comprehend?
Who will to search the dark Abyss descend?
Who can his Wonders number, who declare
Of Energy divine the utmost Sphere?
|
Ch. XXVI.
A paraphrase on the Book of Job | |