Job paused: to whom the Temanite replies:
" Can man such follies utter and be wise,
Which bluster from the tempest of thy mind,
As if thy breast enclos'd the eastern wind?
Wilt thou thy idle rage by reason prove,
Or speak those thoughts which have no pow'r to move?
Thou from thy rebel heart hast God exil'd,
Kept back thy prayers, His sacred truth revil'd.
Thy lips declare thy own impiety,
Accuse of fraud, condemn thee, and not I.
Art thou the first of mortals? Wert thou made
Before the hills their lofty brows display'd?
Hath God to thee His oracles resign'd?
Is wisdom only to thy breast confin'd?
What know'st thou that we know not? as complete
In nature's graces; in acquir'd, as great.
There are grey heads among us; counsellers,
To whom thy father was a boy in years.
Slight'st thou the comforts we from God impart?
What greater secret lurks in thy proud heart,
That hurries thee into these ecstasies?
What fury flames in thy disdainful eyes?
Wilt thou a war against thy Maker wage,
And wound Him with thy tongue's blasphemous rage?
Was ever human flesh from blemish clear?
Can they be guiltless whom frail women bear?
He trusteth not his ministers of light;
The radiant stars shine dimly in His sight.
How perfect then is man, from head to foot
Defil'd with filth, and rotten at the root?
Who poisoning sin with burning thirst devours,
As parched earth sucks in the falling showers.
What I have heard and seen (would'st thou intend
Thy cure) I would unto thy care commend,
Which oft the wise have in my thoughts reviv'd,
To them from knowing ancestors deriv'd;
Who godlike over happy nations reign'd,
And virtue by suppressing vice sustain'd.
Th' unjust his days in painful travail spends,
The cruel suddenly to death descends.
He starts at ev'ry sound that strikes his ear;
And punishment anticipates by fear.
Who from the height of all his glory shall,
Like newly-kindled exhalations, fall.
Despair's cold breath his springing hopes confounds;
Who feels th' expected sword before it wounds.
He begs his bread from door to door, and knows
The night draws on that must his day inclose.
Horror and anguish shall his soul affright,
Daunt like a king that draws his troops to fight.
Since he against the Almighty stretcht his hand,
And like a rebel spurn'd at His command;
God shall upon his sev'n-fold target rush,
And his stiff neck beneath his shoulders crush.
Though luxury swell in his shining eyes,
And his fat belly load his yielding thighs;
Though he dismantled cities fortify,
From their deserted ruins rais'd on high;
Yet his congested wealth shall melt like snow,
Whose growth shall never to perfection grow.
Destruction shall surround him, nor shall he
His soul from that dark night of horror free.
God with His breath shall all his branches blast,
And scorch with lightning by His vengeance cast.
Will the deluded trust to vanity,
And by the stroke of his own folly die?
For he shall be cut down before his time,
His spreading branches wither in their prime.
Lo, as a storm, which with the sun ascends,
From creeping vines their unripe clusters rends,
And the fat olive, ever green with leaves,
Together of her hopes and flowers bereaves:
So shall the great Revenger ruinate
Him and his issue by a dreadful fate.
Those fools who fraud with piety disguise,
And by corrupting bribes to greatness rise;
Their glories shall in desolation mourn,
While hungry flames their lofty structures burn.
With mischief they conceive; their bellies, great
With swelling vanity, bring forth deceit. "