Elihu all this while attentive sate,
And with much Patience heard the long Debate.
A Youth of wond'rous Parts and pregnant Wit,
And with deep Judgment blest to manage it.
Great without Pride, Wise without Self--conceit,
And crown'd (to make his Character compleat)
With humblest Modesty. Full well he knew
What Def'rence to his Elders rested due.
He would not interrupt them, nor his own
Opinion once unfold, till they had done.
Offence at Job and all his Friends, he took,
Th' important Case he saw they all mistook.
And much his active Mind did long to be
A Sharer in the noble Strife: Yet he
Represt his eager Spir't, till they gave o'er,
Nor spoke a Word, till they would speak no more.
Then up he 'rose, and with a graceful Air,
And el'quent Tongue, did thus his Sense declare.

Thus long I judg'd my self more fit to Hear
Than Speak, employing not my Tongue, but Ear.
Thus long my Youth I thought no Match t'engage
Your grave Experience, and maturer Age;
Which in the Chair should sit, and thence bestow
Instructive Light on us, who stand below.
But Wisdom does not still on hoary Hairs
Attend, nor stay the slow Advance of Years.
'Tis Heav'n's free Gift, which sometimes is deny'd
To Men of Age, and by the Young enjoy'd.
Disdain not then to hear, nor let my Youth
Be disregarded, while I speak the Truth.

'Twas but a rash Attempt, and does not suit
Your Honour, nor the Laws of just Dispute,
For Men of Years and Wisdom to pretend
With Crimes of deepest Die to charge your Friend,
To censure his whole Life, and on it cast
Opprobrious Words, and nothing prove at last.
This Way will ne'er reclaim him to a Sense
Of his Misdeeds, nor shake that Confidence
Wherein he triumphs still, and vainly prides
Himself, and all your Arguments derides.
Your Path I'll leave, and take another Course
To humble him, and bring him to Remorse.

Your Folly has incens'd me so, that I
Must either freely speak my Mind, or die.
As close--stop'd Vessels fill'd with working Wine,
The strong, imprison'd Spirit can't confine;
But with intestine Strife and Tumult spent,
It frets and labours, till it force a Vent:
So is my Breast in Pain, till it discharge
Th' uneasy Load, and set my Thoughts at large.
I must, and that with Freedom speak: The Laws
Of Justice bid me to respect the Cause,
And not your Persons. My unpractis'd Mouth
Ne'er learnt the Art to complement and sooth:
An honest Bluntness best becomes the Truth.
Vain flatt'ring Titles I abhor; for He
That knows my Heart the Fraud will quickly see,
And strike me dead for vile Hypocrisy.

Then hear me, Job, I stand prepar'd to speak,
If thou be ready good Advice to take.
Lo! in GOD's Stead, to whom thou hast appeal'd
So oft, I stand, and furnish'd am to yield
In his Behalf an Answer. I am made
Of Flesh, like Thee: Thou needst not be afraid.
I bear no dreadful Majesty, thy Tongue
To over--awe, nor Pow'r to do thee wrong.

Nor do I blame thy former Life, whose bright
And shining Virtues did attract our Sight,
And fill'd our Breasts with Wonder and Delight.
But what I heard, I'll speak. ''I'm free from Sin,
''Thou oft hast said, my Life is pure and clean,
''My Actions have been spotless all, nor can
''Be charg'd with any Crime 'gainst GOD, or Man.
Such lofty Language looks as it defy'd
Thy Maker, and his Attributes deny'd.
His Justice thou hast challeng'd, as if He
Could shew no Cause for thus afflicting thee.
Behold! in this thou dost offend, nor may
Such monstrous Pride pass unreprov'd away.
For GOD is higher much than Thou, nor must
Comparison be made 'twixt Him, and mortal Dust.
With Him 'tis desp'rate Madness to contend,
And tax those Ways, we cannot comprehend.
Oblig'd to none, His Pleasure is His Rule,
And what He will, He does without Controul.
His Actions, like Himself, are wise and free,
Bound up by nothing, but his own Decree.
His Judgments are a Deep, thro' which to wade,
Our shallow Reason ought to be afraid.
Angels themselves stand trembling on the Brink,
And swiftly from th' amazing Prospect shrink.
They dare not, the Abyss is so profound,
Look down, for fear their swiming Heads turn round
How then dares Man, presumptuous Man, pretend
To search what does Seraphick Wit transcend?
And into those Mysterious Secrets pry,
Which are too dazling for an Angel's Eye.

What Reason, what Temptation can invite
Truth, Wisdom, Pow'r, and Goodness infinite
To break those Laws, which by his own Right Hand
Establish'd, as Himself, Eternal stand?
The little Princes of these Realms below
Sometimes oppress Good Men, and sometimes throw
Preferments on the Bad, constrain'd t'obey
The unjust Rules of weak, precarious Sway:
But 'tis not so with Heav'n's Almighty Lord,
Who fram'd and orders all things by his Word;
And, if He should his active Spir't recall,
They'd shrink away, and from their Being fall.

Consider then what lowly Rev'rence suits
Th' Almighty, and his awful Attributes.
His Justice will to ev'ry Man afford,
According to his Deeds, a full Reward.
He will not clear the Guilty, nor withdraw
His Grace from those that keep his Righteous Law.
He needs not deal unjustly to secure
His Sov'reign Right, or guard his mighty Power.
For all the World is His: He neither can
Advantage reap, nor Harm from feeble Man.

Appear these things too deep for thee to sound,
Too dark, and full of Mystery t'expound?
Be not dismay'd: But own thy want of Skill
T'unlock the Closet of thy Maker's Will.
Strive not with GOD, but quietly sit down,
And know, His Wisdom far exceeds thine own.
Let not thy proud, aspiring Thoughts presume
To press too near the high tremendous Room;
Where GOD, in Council with Himself, debates
The Sacred Laws, that govern humane Fates.

Believe me, Job, His secret Judgments lie
Remov'd beyond the Reach of mortal Eye.
But if thou wilt be searching, thou may'st find
In Nature's Book enough t'employ thy Mind.
First, let the Number of his Works be told,
Their Order then, and active Pow'rs unfold.
If here thou fail, thy want of Wisdom own,
And let sublimer Mysteries alone.

Observe the fruitful Rain, and silent Snow;
At his Command they swiftly come and go.
His Precept is their Rule, and whether sent
Abroad for Mercy, or for Punishment,
They straight obey, and execute the Word
Of their Creator, and Almighty Lord.
Sometimes they gently drop, and Plenty yield:
Sometimes with Fury they o'er--run the Field.
The Corn is laid beneath the conq'ring Flood:
The Farmer sighs, and owns the Hand of GOD.
The frighted Beasts before the Tempest fly,
And in their Dens and Coverts trembling lie.
Cold Frosts, at GOD's Command, the Floods surprize,
And o'er the Rivers lay a Bridge of Ice.
Now from the South rise misty Fogs, and then
The North Wind blows, and sweeps the Air again.
Soft Dews distill upon the Ground, and in
The wat'ry Cloud his beauteous Bow is seen.
These things surpass thy Skill, nor do'st thou know
When Show'rs will fall, or whence the Wind will blow.
What Pulleys heave the Clouds above the Air,
What unseen Engines hold them hanging there,
Till o'er the Place they come, which GOD ordains
To visit with his kind, refreshing Rains.
How come thy Garments to be warm? And where
Wast thou, when first the Seasons of the Year
Were in their Order set? Did'st thou stand by,
And help Him, when He spread the spacious Sky,
In which the Beams of Majesty Divine,
As in a Glass, by safe Reflection shine;
Which, if expos'd directly to the Eye,
Would solve the Frame of weak Mortality?

Yet divers ways He does instruct Mankind,
And, if they would believe, reveals his Mind.
Sometimes by Dreams and Visions of the Night
Their Ear he opes, and pours in heav'nly Light.
Sometimes by Mercies He does court their Love;
Sometimes the rougher way of Judgments prove.
Sharp Sickness he inflicts, and mighty Pains,
And binds them to their Bed with heavy Chains;
Their Stomach is so weak, they loath to eat,
Nor can their Palate tast the daintiest Meat.
Their Bones stick out, their Flesh consumes away,
And Death stands by, to seize the falling Prey.
Then by his Prophets, and the sage Advice
Of learned Ministers, He makes them wise.
If warn'd by Them, the sick Man's Soul relent,
His Sins bewail, and solemnly repent,
Such mighty Force their Intercessions bear,
Such good Success still follows faithful Prayer,
'Twill soon retrieve his Body from the Grave,
And his glad Soul from endless Sorrows save.
Lo! all these Ways th' Almighty does instill
Into Mens Minds the Knowledge of his Will,
That they may learn to Love and to Obey:
And more than That is Labour thrown away.

O then dispute no more, but humbly yield,
And quit, with Meekness, the litigious Field.
Confess thy Sins, that they no longer may
Avert his Sacred Face, and drive away
His Mercy from thy House: For He as soon
Can raise thy Fortunes, as He cast them down.
He does not willingly afflict, and if
Thou own his Justice, and implore Relief,
He'll soon be reconcil'd, and largely bless
Thy Years to come with Health and Happiness.

Thus did the learned Youth his Sense unfold:
Nor had Job time to answer. For, behold!
A dreadful Whirlwind on the sudden rose,
And dismal Darkness did the Place enclose.
Loud Thunders roar'd, the Earth began to quake,
And all the Pillars of the House did shake.
The Disputants, surpriz'd with Sacred Fear,
Fell prostrate down, and own'd that GOD was near.
Who came, his Honour there to vindicate,
And his own Cause in Person to debate.
Th' Almighty spake, and, passing by the rest,
Himself to Job in Thunder thus addrest.

What Man is this, that with an haughty Brow
Contemns his GOD, disdaining to allow
My secret Councils to be Just and Wise,
Unless with him his Maker do advise?
That with bold Ignorance pretends to throw
Disgrace on things too high for him to know;
And in proud Scorn of Majesty Divine,
Compares himself with me, his Wit with Mine?
Come Job (for thou art He) arise, and show
Thy self a Man. Begin, and let me know
What Errors in my Conduct give Offence
'Gainst me, thy Sov'reign, and my Providence.
But first, to prove thy Skill, come forth and stand
Prepar'd to answer what I now demand.

When first my Hand did found the solid Earth,
And gave to Infant Time and Motion Birth,
Then where wast thou, thou the most Wise of Men?
Did I not act without thy Counsel then?
Who drew the noble Plan, and ev'ry Part
Contriv'd with so much Beauty, so much Art?
Who fram'd the Building, and so firmly wrought
Each curious Joynt, as far surmounts thy Thought?
Who laid the Corner--Stone, and by his Pow'r
Rais'd the high Roof, & spread the spacious Floor?
The Sons of GOD on the vast Structure gaz'd,
And all the bright, Angelick Quire amaz'd
Stood by, & with loud Songs the wise Creator prais'd.

Who sunk the deep, capacious Gulph, and found
A Way to drain the Surface of the Ground?
When, like an Infant springing from the Womb,
Down from the Hills the rowling Sea did come?
The new--born Monster in my Nursing Hands
I took, and wrapt it in soft swadling Bands
Of fleecy Clouds, and when it roar'd, with Ease
I still'd its Voice, and hush'd it into Peace.
Where long before my Wisdom had design'd
Its Place to dwell, the Ocean I confin'd,
Enclos'd with Banks of Sand, and rocky Shoars
As sure as with strong Bars and brazen Doors.
Thus far, said I, thus far thou may'st presume;
But further I command thee not to come.
Be this thy Bound: Here let thy Waves be stay'd.
The Waves, tho' proud and stormy, straight obey'd.

Can'st thou appoint the Sun to rise, and make
His Journey short, or longer for thy Sake?
Can'st thou command him to relate to thee
The Crimes his Eye, tho' loath, does daily see,
That thou may'st punish Sinners, and proclaim
From East to West the Terror of thy Name?
Will he, at thy Request, from Wicked Eyes
With--hold his chearful Beams, which they despise,
And since in Deeds of Darkness they delight,
Involve them all in one Eternal Night?

Can thy quick Sight the Sea's vast Fund descry,
And all those secret Springs, which still supply
The flowing Mass? Can'st thou descend, and sweep
The hoarded Treasures of the wealthy Deep?
How dar'st thou then into my Judgments pry,
Which are an Ocean of Infinity?

Who made the first rude, undistinguish'd Heap,
Where the young Seeds of all things lay asleep;
Till, by my Voice awaken'd, ev'ry Kind
Assum'd the Form and Place that I assign'd?
Who made the gloomy Face of Nature bright,
And out of Darkness struck the beauteous Light?
Or whither does that charming Creature run
To hide her self, when Night comes stealing on?
And when the conq'ring Sun remounts the Sky,
Where do the frighted Ghosts and Shadows fly?
Alas! when this alternate Course was set,
Thou wast not born, nor had'st a Being yet;
And Day and Night each other shall succeed
No otherwise than now, when thou art dead.

Or hast thou view'd th' Almighty's Magazine,
His Armoury; where pil'd on Heaps are seen
Vast Stores of pointed Bolts, and pond'rous Hail
(Th' Artillery of Heaven) prepar'd t'assail
My stubborn Foes, whenever I arise
The sinful World in Anger to chastise?

Why should I name the Snows, and fruitful Rains,
Or rig'rous Frosts that bind the liquid Plains,
The subtle Force of Lightning, or the loud
Report of Thunder, breaking from the Cloud,
That mighty Voice of GOD, which rends the Sky,
And makes the bold Blasphemer quake, and by
His guilty Fears confess a Deity.
Why should I name the Stars of Heav'n, those bright
And glitt'ring Troops that guide the silent Night,
Their Order, Beauty, Force, and Influence,
Mysterious things, and far above thy Sense?
Descend awhile, and, if thou canst, controul
My Providence, in Nature's lower School.

Canst thou dispatch the Lion's Prey, and feed
His hungry Whelps, when they Provision need?

Or when young Ravens, having nought to eat,
Complain and cry, wilt thou prepare their Meat?
Thou canst not do't: and therefore not to thee
Do those young Orphans call for Help, but Me.
Know'st thou the Day when the wild Goates, that climb
The craggy Mountains, have fulfill'd their Time?

Or when the tim'rous Hind, seiz'd with the Throws
Of sudden Travail, feels excessive Woes,
How at my Word from Pain she's straight releas'd,
By Midwife--Thunder of her Burden eas'd?
With Life and Vigour fill'd, the sprightly Fawns
Grow fat, and gallop o'er the Flow'ry Lawns.
They leave their Dams, & 'mongst the sprouting Corn
Such Pasture find, they care not to return.

Observe the savage Ass, that gen'rous Beast:
Was he from Bondage by thy Hand releas'd?
He scorns to wait, nor can endure to think
Of serving for pecarious Meat and Drink.
He takes his Walks at Pleasure, and disdains
To yield his free--born Neck to slavish Reins,
To take a Rider on his Back, or bear
Th' uneasy Cumbrance of a Traveller.
The barren Deserts are his Range, where he,
Secure of Peace and Native Liberty,
Enjoys the Hardships of the loansome Place,
And nobly scorns the tame, degen'rate Race,
That basely, for a little stinted Food,
Their Freedom sell, kind Nature's chiefest Good.
Their Stripes and Burdens, and their abject Fear,
When the rude Driver's surly Voice they hear;
He does in Safety, and at Distance see,
And wonders how they can so stupid be;
Then to the Mountain flies, where, far from Strife,
He tasts the Sweets of free and happy Life.

Canst thou perswade the Unicorn to bear
A Yoke, and be thy Servant all the Year?
In drudging for thee will he spend the Light,
And feed contented by thy Crib at Night?
Send him to plough; try if, at thy Command,
He'll draw the painful Harrow o'er thy Land.
He's wond'rous strong, and yet thou dar'st not leave
Thy Labours to his Care; nor Credit give,
If he should promise to bring home thy Corn,
And with glad Plenty fill thy spacious Barn.

Behold the Peacock's goodly Train! is he
For those Majestick Plumes oblig'd to Thee?

Did'st thou adorn the Ostrich with so bright
And gay a Form, as breeds no small Delight?
Beauty without, but Folly dwells within
That Bird, the Emblem of deceitful Sin.
She leaves her Eggs upon the barren Land,
Warm'd by kind Sun--Beams brooding on the Sand.
Sometimes the Feet of weary Travellers
Strike on the Place, and crush them unawares;
Sometimes wild Beasts, when from the neighb'ring Wood
In hast they run, pursuing, or pursu'd,
The tender Shell in Pieces break, and kill
Th' abortive Young, and Life in Embrio spill.
Ah! cruel Mother! thus to leave the Birth
Of her own Bowels on the naked Earth!
But GOD, that gives to other Birds the Care
To save their young ones, has deny'd it her.
She apprehends no Danger e'er it fall,
And when it comes, is not concern'd at all.
Yet with expanded Wings she runs apace,
And baffles all the Masters of the Chase,
And from the swiftest Courser wins the Race.

Or, say, didst thou inspire the valiant Horse
With matchless Beauty, and undaunted Force?
He shakes his flowing Mane, and neighs aloud;
His Voice, like Thunder, frights the staring Crowd.
Canst thou distract him with vain idle Fear,
As wanton Children hunt a Grashopper?
The little Army she no sooner spies,
But leaves her tuneful Songs, and trembling flies.
Not so the Horse; who snores, and in his Ire
From his wide Nostrils breaths out flaming Fire.
He tears the Ground up with his armed Feet,
And with Impatience longs the Foe to meet.
Fair Fame in bloody Battels he does court,
And honourable Danger is his Sport.
At all the frightful Shapes, that War affords,
He laughs, and boldly runs on naked Swords.
And with ambitious Courage does advance
'Gainst the sharp Point of the long threat'ning Lance.
Eager t'engage, he scarce can keep his Ground,
Nor wait, till licens'd by the Trumpet's Sound.
The Captain's thund'ring Voice with Joy he hears,
And hostile Shouts are Musick to his Ears.
Then fill'd with Rage, he runs to meet the War,
Resolv'd to spend his Life, or gain a Share
In those bright Garlands, which, the bloody Day
With Conquest ended, are the Victor's Pay.

Did'st thou instruct the Hawk to soar upright,
And from the Clouds the little Birds to fright?
And, when she feels cold Winter drawing near,
To change her Clime, and seek a warmer Air?
At thy Command does the swift Eagle fly,
And mount aloft to view the neighb'ring Sky?
On steep and craggy Rocks she builds her Nest,
And there in Safety leaves her Young to rest;
While she far off th' unwary Game descries,
And swiftly stoops to seize the trembling Prize:
Then to her Nest conveys the reeking Food,
And with fresh Dainties feasts her little Brood.
She spies from far the Soldiers bloody Toil,
And calls her Fellows to divide the Spoil.
In Troops they meet, and fill the warlike Plain,
Strow'd with fat Kings, and Heaps of Captains slain.
Whose tasteful Blood they suck, then haste away,
And leave to vulgar Birds the courser Prey.

How long wilt thou refuse to bow before
These strong Convictions of Almighty Power?
How long wilt thou my Providence arraign
Of blind Injustice? Wilt thou still maintain
Thy Cause to my Dishonour? He that durst
Presume so high, should solve these Problems first.

Th' Almighty spoke. And Job, whose painful Breast
With Shame and pious Horror was distrest,
A while stood trembling, and no Answer made,
At last he bow'd his Head, and meekly said;

LORD, I am vile, I know not what to say.
I have offended, and for Mercy pray.
My too bold Tongue I now condemn, nor shall
Such Language from my Lips hereafter fall.
Once I have spoke, yea twice: But now no more
Will I proceed, but silently adore
Thy Majesty, which I contemn'd before.

Then from the Whirlwind Heav'ns high Monarch spoke
A second time; and frighted Nature shook,
Unable to sustain the mighty Word
Of her Creator, and immortal LORD.

Is then thy Courage lost? How oft hast thou
Challeng'd thy Maker to dispute? And now
Wilt thou decline the Combat? Rise and stand
To answer what I further shall demand.

Wilt thou suspect my Care of Humankind,
Whom all the World does so indulgent find?
And must my Honour fall, that thou may'st raise
Out of its Dust, a Temple to thy Praise?

Hast thou an Arm of Length and Force Divine?
Or can'st thou Thunder with a Voice like Mine?
Then deck thy Head with Majesty and Light,
And arm thy Breast with high resistless Might.
Let all that hate thee feel thy angry Rod,
Abase the Proud, and shew thy self a GOD.
Exert thy Sov'reign Pow'r; make all unjust
And haughty Sinners bow, and lick the Dust.
Blast all their Hopes, and cast their Glory down
With one grave Look, or with a single Frown.
Then will I freely grant that thou art meet
To sit with Me, a Partner on my Seat.
Then wilt thou need no Help of mine to stand,
But owe thy Safety to thy own Right Hand.

But first behold two wondrous Works of mine,
In which my Wisdom and high Grandeur shine;
Observe them well, and let them read to thee
A pious Lecture of Humility.

Behold the Behemoth, that famous Beast,
The Work of Hands Divine by all confest.
So vast his Bulk, so terrible his Look,
All that behold him are with Wonder struck.
Were Flesh his Meat, did he delight in Blood,
Whole Herds would scarce suffice for one Days Food:
But on green Herbs the blameless Monster feeds,
Amongst fat Oxen, in the flow'ry Meads.
Observe his Strength and Stature, Shape and Meen,
And tell me if thou hast his Equal seen.
Standing upright, like some fair Hill he shows,
And seems a moving Castle, when he goes.
Strong are his Loins, and all his Joints around
Are with strong Nerves, like twisted Cables, bound.
His swelling Veins branch out from Head to Feet,
And in his Navel, as their Center, meet.
Like solid Brass his Bones are Firm and Hard,
His Ribs to Iron--Bars may be compar'd.
'Mongst the chief Works of GOD he stands, a Sign
And visible Effect of Pow'r Divine.
Th' Almighty made him with a Word, and when
He will, can speak him into Dust again.
Mean while upon the Mountains he doth stray,
Where all the harmless Creatures round him play,
And he as fearless feeds 'mongst th' Beasts of Prey.
With Drought inflam'd, down to the Floods he makes,
And there his panting Heat at leisure slakes.
He drinks a flowing River off with Ease,
Whole Jordan hardly can his Thirst appease.
Then underneath the Willows gloomy Shade,
Or in some Bow'r, with Reeds and Osiers made,
He takes his Rest secure; for no Man dares
Beset his Lodging with Nocturnal Snares:
Or if they should presume, he'd soon awake,
And all their vain Attempts in Pieces break.

Observe another Monster, and adore
In him the wise Creator's boundless Power.
The great Leviathan, who proudly reigns,
The Sov'reign Monarch of the liquid Plains.
Let down thy Hook, and try if thou canst bore
His Nostrils through, and draw him to the Shore.
Bring, if thou can'st, his haughty Stomach down
To render, and himself thy Pris'ner own.
Or make him cringe, and beg his Life of thee,
And pay a Ransom for his Liberty.
Or, like a Sparrow with a Thred confin'd
For Childrens Play, wilt thou the Captive bind
In cruel Strings, restrain'd from doing Hurt,
And keep him tame to make thy Maidens Sport?
Invite thy Friends to eat him; let them all
Meet at a noble Banquet in thy Hall.
But if thou rather be in Love with Gold,
He'll make thee Rich, if to the Merchant sold.
Or, 'tis in vain to harbour such a Thought;
He scorns thy weak Attempts, nor will be caught.
So firm his Neck, so wond'ous hard his Skin.
The sharpest Darts can make no Wound therein.
Direct thy strongest Spear against his Head,
'Twill fly in Pieces, like a slender Reed.
Who then is able in my Sight to stand,
Who have this dreadful Monster at Command,
Obsequious to my Voice, and gentle to my Hand?
Who has oblig'd me first, and frankly laid
A Debt of Thanks upon Me to be paid?
Who gave Me ought, since all belongs to Me
Upon the solid Earth, within the moving Sea?

Who can describe his goodly Parts, or tell
What Wonders in this huge Sea--Giant dwell?
His gaping Jaws are like the Gates of Death,
And in his Mouth are seen long Rows of frightful Teeth.
His Scales are like a broad and burnish'd Shield,
Born by some valiant Knight into the Field.
So closely wrought, that no thin Air can steal
Between the Joynts, or break the binding Seal.
Proud of this Armour, he defies his Foes,
And boldly does his Side to their vain Rage expose.
His Neezings force a sparkling Light, and out
Of his wide Nostrils lofty Torrents spout.
His flaming Eyes are like the Morning--Ray,
That calls the Sun up, and proclaims the Day.
His fiery Breath would kindle Coals, and from
His Mouth hot Flames, as from a Furnace, come.

Fond of his Strength and Courage, he performs
Strange Wonders i' the Deep, and plays with angry Storms.
Above the Waves he rises, to survey
The Warlike Fleets, and looks as big as They.
He rouls along; th' affrighted Sailors cry:
Their stout Hearts fail, and they expect to Die.
For well they know Resistance is but vain,
Wing'd Arrows and drawn Swords he does disdain.
At Brass and Iron Weapons he does laugh,
And values Darts and Stones, as flying Chaff.
The pressing Waves from his broad Sides he shoves,
And thro' the Seas, a floating Island, moves.
Behind him shines a Path, and all around
The Ocean's Head with Hoariness is crown'd.
In all the World, thou canst not find his Peer,
So great, so proud, so stout, and void of Fear.
Above the foaming Billows he does ride,
And reigns a Tyrant o'er the Sons of Pride.

Th' Almighty spoke. And now his Servant's Heart
Was deeply wounded with Repenting Smart.
His Eyes were open'd to discern his Pride,
Presumption, Haste, and all his Sins beside
Then on the naked Floor he prostrate laid
His Body down, and thus he humbly pray'd.

LORD, I submit, With Meekness I adore
Thy Sov'reign Wisdom, and Almighty Pow'r.
Justice and Truth do both to Thee belong:
And I, in standing out, have done thy Patience wrong.
Thy Judgments I revere, and do approve
Thy wond'rous Goodness and Paternal Love:
My Folly I confess, and want of Sense,
In judging rashly of thy Providence:
Thy Truth a Mountain is, thy Love a Sea;
The First too high, too Deep the Last for me
To comprehend: And therefore now no more
Will I dispute, but humbly fall before
Thy sacred Feet, and there will prostrate lie,
Till thou hast pardon'd mine Iniquity.
Instruct me how to know my self and Thee;
Thee to be Wise and Great, and vile and foolish me.
Much I had heard before: But now mine Eye
Hath plainly seen thine awful Majesty.
LORD, I abhor my self, and full of Grief,
My Sins acknowledge, and invoke Relief.
In Dust and Ashes I repent, and from
Thy gracious Lips implore a favourable Doom.

Thus pray'd the Saint. And now his gentle GOD
Was Reconcil'd, and threw away his Rod.
Firm Faith and true Repentance Heav'n command,
And humble Pray'r disarms th' Almighty's Hand.
He could no longer Frown, no longer show
An angry Face, nor Personate the Foe.
He now resolves to put a joyful End
T'his Servant's Labours, and become his Friend;
And, since so well he had perform'd his Part,
To crown his Champion's Head, and chear his Heart.

But first Job's unkind Friends in Hand He took,
And thus to Eliphaz in Anger spoke.

Thou and thy two Companions have incur'd
My just Displeasure, and my Fury stir'd.
For with fallacious Words you have abus'd
My Judgments, and unjustly Job accus'd;
My Servant, who amidst that dismal Night
Of Sorrows which sometimes o'erwhelm'd the Light
Of Grace and Knowledge in his Soul, that he
My Wisdom, Truth and Goodness scarce could see,
Has yet my Cause defended well, and won
More Praise, than Thou and both thy Friends have done.
Repent ye then, and to my Servant go,
Confess your rash Offence; and take with you
Seven Bullocks, and as many spotless Rams,
To be consum'd, and burnt in hallow'd Flames.
Him I have made my Priest; and for his Sake
You of my Grace and Mercy may partake.
His Sacrifice I will accept, and when
He prays for you, forgive your heinous Sin.
You have betray'd my right'ous Cause, and by
His Intercession must Escape, or Die.

He ceas'd. And Eliphaz submitted Straight,
And with his Friends on GOD's High--Priest did wait.
Sev'n Bullocks & sev'n Rams with them they brought,
And with submissive Vows his Favour sought.

Then Job arose and sanctify'd the Ground,
Remov'd all Filth, and sprinkled Water round.
Of chosen Stones an Altar next he built,
GOD's Wrath t'appease, and expiate their Guilt.
The Off'rings and the Wood in Order laid,
The Saint kneel'd down, and thus devoutly pray'd.

Almighty GOD, who dost thy Wrath restrain,
And giv'st us less than we deserve of Pain.
Whose Judgments are a deep Abyss, and must,
Tho' sometimes dark, be still acknowledg'd Just.
We've greatly sinn'd, and if Thou should'st proceed
In Chastisement, we must approve thy Deed.
We do not hide our Errors, but confess
We all have done exceedingly amiss.
We thought Thee like our selves, and measur'd thine
Unbyass'd Goodness by our crooked Line.
Pardon my Friends, O LORD, and pardon me,
Who grieve and blush to have offended Thee.
Return, O LORD, return, and Pity take
On us, thy Servants, for thy Mercy's Sake.

Scarce had he finish'd, when behold from Heav'n,
A certain Sign of kind Acceptance giv'n,
The Sky grew clear; there shone a perfect Day,
And Light Divine chas'd all their Fears away.
A glorious Flame, bright as the Morning--Sun,
From Heav'n's high Court came sliding swiftly down,
From Heav'n it swiftly came, and in their Sight
Upon the sacred Altar did alight,
The Victims it consum'd, and to the Skies
The hallow'd Smoke in curling Clouds did rise.
A sweet Perfume the well--pleas'd GOD--head smelt,
And tender Pity did his Bowels melt.
And, lo! His sacred Voice was heard aloft,
Not dreadful as before, but kind and soft.
As, when in After--times high Heav'n decreed
To save lost Mankind, by the promis'd Seed,
On Jordan's flow'ry Banks the Son of GOD
Was Own'd, Commended, and Proclaim'd aloud:
Such was the Voice, and so Divinely sweet,
And thus it did GOD's faithful Servant greet.

Thy Off'ring I accept; thy Pray'rs are heard,
And these thy Friends, at thy Request, are spar'd.

But Thou, O wond'rous Man, of GOD belov'd,
And in the Day of Trial found approv'd!
Thy Combat's past: Thy Triumph yet remains,
And shall for ever. So high Heav'n ordains.
Thy Suff'rings and thy Wants shall end with Speed,
And Health and Plenty in their Place succeed.
Thy Loss shall be repair'd, and all thy Store
Shall double be to what it was before.
Thy Substance shall abound, and I will bless
Thy Labours with miraculous Encrease.
All they that wond'red at thy lost Estate,
Shall wonder more to see thy happy Fate.
Thy Kindred and deserting Friends shall hear
The joyful Change, and, prest with conscious Fear,
Shall to thy House with Complements resort,
And by rich Presents thy lost Favour court.

Sev'n goodly Sons thou shalt beget, and three
Illustrious Daughters shall be born to Thee.
Whose charming Beauty shall surpass the best
And fairest Ladies, that adorn the East.
These, with their Brothers, thou shalt high advance
And 'mongst them share thy vast Inheritance.
Succeeding Ages shall exalt thy Name,
And future Prophets sing thy lasting Fame.

Full sev'nscore Summers thou shalt live, and see
Thy Children's Children, and their Progeny,
A num'rous, and well--govern'd Family.
And when thy glorious Course at last is run,
A peaceful Death thy pious Life shall crown.
Well satisfy'd thou shalt from hence retreat,
To a more blessed and eternal Seat.

GOD spoke. And true each Word his Servant found,
Nor fell one Tittle frustrate to the Ground.