to dye Nor should I offer to expostulate ' And with my Maker enter in debate Is there an Umpire to oblige us both And tye us by Subscription and Oath To stand to his award for who is he Dares arbitrate betwixt my God and me But let him hold a little and at least For some small time forbear at my request To torture me let him withdraw his Rod And let th' hot Pincers of an angry God Piece-meal my Soul no more O let his wrath Be satisfied with a single death Then would I boldly speak and without fear Before him in my own defence appear Then would I argue with such Eloquence As in short time would clear my Innocence But 'cause at present I am not in case For speaking I think fit to hold my peace Cap. X. MY Soul 's cut off and though I seem to breath Yet am I coop'd up in the jaws of death My Soul is fled my days of life are gone And this poor widow'd Body left alone To be the subject of some country fable As in its ruines only memorable This fashion'd piece of Earth which formerly One would ha' thought would shift Mortality For many years a Body which of late In health and vigour fully animate With a most cheerful Soul seem'd to imply As if at least some small felicity Were to be found below the Heavens this point Of the Creation framed joint by joint Into a reasonable shape at last By griefs consuming fury quite defac't Has now no figure but doth every day Like Wax before the Candle melt away For as a stranded Vessel by no hands To be got off and sticking on the Sands Obnoxious to the rage of every Tide Whilst each rude Wave beats ribs out of its side In its dimensions every day decreases Until at length 't is shattered all to pieces And then what was a statelie Ship before In Planks and Boards is cast upon the Shore So this frail Body which in health and strength Look'd like a tall Ship in its Course at length Stranding upon the Shelves of foul diseases In its proportion every hour decreases And that it may be ruin'd with dispatch Each ulcerous Billow doth large Gobbets snatch Out of that vigorous Body which alace Is now in a most despicable case Hence what remains is that this shattered frame Void of all honour beautie shape and name Should like infected Goods by no man own'd In Skin and Bones be hurried under ground Then what is Life O let me but admire What idle expectation can hire Insipid man upon this Earth to dwell And love that thing which we call Life so well Life like the Mornings-dew upon the Grass Exhal'd e're Noon-tide Life a simple lease At will and pleasure of a homelie Farm For us to toile in where we 're hardly warm In the possession of it when anon Our Lease runs out and we must all be gone Life but the parcels of a few years breath Summ'd up at last i' th capital of death Times wast-book health and strengths extinguisher Heavens great derider Hells remembrancer The old mans profit and the young mans loss The rich mans Idol and the poor mans cross Sins active Pander for some little space Then to Repentancea sad looking glass Pleasures mean vassal times obedient â—alve And a most faithful servant to the Grave Death charges Time Time charges Life by Roll To make account of every living Soul The grand Collector by just calculation Himself discharges of each Generation In deaths exchequer then begins afresh T' exact the impost of all living flesh This is that we call Life this is the thing Of which poor Mortals make such reckoning As if the sum of all their happiness Lay in their breathing for some little space Alace that men of reason thus should lye Sick of an universal phrenesie And not rouz'd up at length perceive for shame What is this Life which they so much esteem This Life a thing so burdensome to me As how I hate it you do clearly see May I not then oppress 't with Life repine Since there 's no Life comparable to mine The dregs of Life that do with me remain Are but the meer fomenters of my pain For who extended night and day on rack Would not with all his heart Death welcome make O let me then to God make my address O let me to himself my woes express He is a God of mercy and will hear Th'oppress't and have regard to every tear That drops from pious eyes A sore complaint then on my self I 'l make And in the anguish of my Soul I 'l speak I 'l say to God condemn me not and why Wilt thou contend with such a thing as I An Eagle take the pains to kill a flee Contend with me a thing not to be nam'd A thing of which even Nature is asham'd A piece of Earth that serving for no use Is thrown out on the Dung-hill as refuse The dross of human frailâ—â—y the abstract Of all that 's mouldy low decay'd and crack't A thing now grating at the gates of death Retarded only by a gasping breath A thing so mean as is not worth thy wrath Then why good Lord dost thou take so much pleasure T' oppress so mean a thing beyond all measure What doth this to thy Glory contribute How doth such usage with thy Justice sute Alace I know not how the matter stands But thus t' undo the labour of thy hands Thus to destroy a Creaure thou didst frame And once didst think it worthy of a name Nay as thy Creature thou was 't pleas'd to own Thus to reject it with a sullen frown Me thinks is strange What may the Atheists say When thy own servants are oppress 't this way Why they will surely in their scoffing mode Blaspheme the ever glorious Name of God See here they 'l say a man who seriously Apply'd his mind to th' art of piety Who his great God above all things ador'd A most devoted Servant to his Lord. One who not pleas'd with what his neighbours us'd Despised their Religion and refus'd T' acknowledge any of their Deities But in a zealous phrensy did devise A Deitie to himself peculiar Out of an humour to be singular See now they 'l say see how his God doth treat him See how his Lord he so much lov'd doth hate him How he doth whip him how he takes delite To vex a man who us'd himself to write A most obedient Servant to his God See how he beats him with a heavie Rod. Let him complain weep pray do what he can Let him cry out yet still this pious man Finds none to comfort pity or deplore him And for his God ' has no compassion for him But on the contrair doth appear t' abhor him Sure this will be their language thus alace Those impious wretches will themselves express Yes this will be their Table-talk I fear O then forbear for thy own sake
Life a Life so poor and mean A Life so larded with sad grief and pain As if his mortal foe a man would curse All his invention could not wish him worse Then I am now then I am I sad I Who that I may be sadder must not dye Lord how my Sighs with force ingeminate Pump up whole floods of Tears which when I eat Are now the only Sawces to my Meat For from my Eyes these as from Water-spout Like Rain swoln Torrents issue always out Then let me dye O let me quickly dye As others do and not so cruelly Be forc'd thus to survive my Losse and see Under the Heavens no sinful man like me No sinful man no none of all that Race So much opprest as I am none alace Of Heavens foes suffering so much as I Who liv'd by th' Laws and Rules of Piety As I who always studied to shun Those Courses which a many Mortals run As I who always shunn'd to give occasion To my indeed kind God of provocation But now I plainly see my former Zeal And Piety could not with him prevail T' avert this blow no no my clouds of Prayers Are now dissolv'd in deluges of Tears And I must suffer now what never man Endur'd before me since the world began Indeed in th' affluence of my former bless I still would fear this sad Catastasis And these same thoughts did so my Spirit seize As in the night time my o're wearied eyes Had little sleep for I could ne're endure In all my prosp'rous time to live secure As some who on their earthly Blessings rest Which makes me so uneasily dâ—gest My present troubles O then let me dye For since alace my â—eal and Piety My Prayers my Tears my daily Offerings Could not prevent my present Sufferings How should I think they can me extricate Out of this sad and miscrable state Then let me dye O let me dye again I beg it Lord let me be out of pain At any rate let not thy dreadful wrath Deprive me of the benefit of death As it has done of all things here below Nâ— my good God permit it not for so I shall in horrour live and possibly After long sufferings in despair shall dye O let me dye then for thy mercies sake Lord let me dye and force me not to take Those resolutions which some other men Would take if in such misery and pain Burst then poor heart O split burst speedily That I may have the happiness to dye To dye and then I know my Makers wrath For all this will be by my single death Quickly appeas'd and in the grave I shall Rest sweetly free of troubles after all O death what mortal can thy worth esteem Who 's he can thy intrinsick value name All states of life are daily to be sold But thou death art not to be had for gold Though th' world of life but one great mercat be Yet all 's bought up and there 's none left for me But that which even mad men would abhor Then why should I this life keep any more This life this hellish life O now kind death Ease me of this and take my parting Breath Then burst sad heart what cannot all my Art Be able yet to burst one broken heart Yes sure burst quickly let me quickly dye And in this ugly â—â—unghill where I lye Let me be buryed but my Friends take heed My Body with much earth be covered Under a heap of stones lest Labouring Men Digging this Dung hill in the Season when They dung their grounds should find my Carcass here For if uncovered will infect the Air. PART II. Cap. IV. JOB having thus attempted to express That inward grief which did his Soul oppress One of his three Friends Eliphaz by name Did him thus tartly for his passion blame Should we says he with thee expostulate And on the matter enter in debate We see the heat of thy impatience Is such as our discourse may give offâ—nce Yet though thou should st be vext and curse us all As thou hast done thy birth-day nothing shall Make us forget our duty for reprove The errors of a man we so much love We must indeed then pray who can forbear To answer thee when such discourse we hear Of thy great zeal and piety of late Thy grace thy virtue and I know not what By which thou'd make us think forsooth that he Who cannot act unjusâ—ly punish'd thee Without a fault preceeding very fair Pray who with patience can such language hear Should in our hearing one of God complain Unjustly and from answerâ—ng we abstain No no my friend we came not here indeed To hear thee in thy Passions exceed The rage of mad-men or allow thee so To cry and overact a man of woe For shame how mean a thing it is to see Thy mind thus discompos'd that such as thee Whose eminent prudence virtue piety And long experience o' th' worlds vanity We thought had taught thee to know better things That such as thee in foolish murmurings Should bluster thus Thou who didst others in affliction teach How to behave would to them patience preach And how with crosses they should be content Thy self to become thus impatient Thou who in troubles others hast restor'd Canst thou no comfort to thy self afford Others thou'd check when in Adversity As thou dost now they 'd passionately cry And curse their Birth-day as thou now hast done Afflictions at length are come upon Thy self and thou art griev'd it toucheth thee I' th' quick and thou art all in flames we see Where 's now thy fear of God thy confidence In him thy Uprightness thy Patience Where are those Virtues now what are they fled At such time as thou most of them hast need Why should'st my friend like mad-man then cry out In view of all thy Neighbours round about And set out thy condition with such Art As if without cause thou afflicted wer 't Have not thy sins call'd for thy punishment Prethee forbear then this thy vain Complaint Who ever perish'd being Innocent Pray call to mind how thou hast liv'd before As other sinners and complain no more Revise the Annals of thy former time And thou wilt surely find the hidden Crime For which we all of us perceive indeed Thou now art most severely punished Consider this pray and without debate Thou 'lt not so with thy God expostulate He acts according to most upright Laws And punishes no man without a Cause But I 've observ'd that Antecedent sin How slow soever still doth usher in Punishment to it self proportionate Which still attends the sinner soon or late So in his Judgement on his sins may read And see the Cause from whence his woes proceed For I have often seen that such as Plow Your heathy Ground and corrupt Seed do Sow For all their Labours when their Harvest came They'd Reap no other but the very same Vain men who
proclaim Can in his judgements err can any thing Invert the firm Decrees of Heavens King He who himself is Justice can he do What is unjust dost ' think that he 'l allow Vain man t' imagine that he can dispense With what injustice is in any Sense Dost think he can be Brib'd as dayly here Our Judges are either by Hope or Fear With all th' efforts of humane Art and Skill T' alter th' Eternal Purpose of his Will Why if thy Children did their God offend And for their sins were brought t' untimely end Why dost ' regrate the loss so bitterly Of those who for their Crimes deserv'd to dye No sure thou shouldst not such thy Children call But rather take example by their Fall T' abstain from sin and not provoke the Wrath Of him who in his Hand has Life and Death Yet if thou 'lt call on God and earnestlie Implore assistance from his Majesty If with a heart and hands uplifted thou Humbly before thy great Creator bow If with a cordial true sincerity Thou to thy Maker dost thy self apply Then will he hear thy Pray'r and after all What now thou dost most grievous Torments call He 'l re-establish thee and make thee see How much for all thy Plagues he valueth thee He 'l blesse thy dwelling House with Righteousness And ' crown thy Life with Honour Wealth and Peace Nay tho thou now dost in affliction lye Complaining of thy Pains and Agony Although thy present Case seems to declare No Remedy is left thee but despare Yet shall thy latter end with joyes be bless't And thou of great abundance be possest Now if thou wilt not credit what we say Go too enquire search all Records I pray Dig in the bowels of Antiquity Where Times immense spare-treasury doth ly Where our Creators Glorious Works of old Are to be read in Characters of Gold There shalt thou see what mercies God hath shown To those he loves how much he for his own At all times hath appear'd enquire now pray For truth is we are but of Yesterday Just drop't into the World meer Novices Have no deep thoughts and can at best but guess Men of no reach nor is there time allow'd For us to learn on earth although we wou'd For as a shadow so our years do pass Our Days by time are eaten up like Grass But O let Venerable Antiquity Inform thee plainly how the case doth ly Ask Councel of dead Wise Men in a word Let what those Father 's left upon Record Teach thee let their Authority prevail For what we speak perhaps thou think'st a Tale. Inform thy self then and thou'lt surely find We are thy real Friends and are more kind Than thou imagin'st for we do not mean To flatter thee but hearing thee complain Of thy sad usage as if thou wert one Void of all sin and it could not be known What mov'd our God so sore to punish thee We tell thee we the reason plainly see Sins usher Judgments as the Flames do heat And as when Serpents Mouth and Tail doth meet It makes a Circle so the sin goes round Then meeting with the Judgment doth confound It self with th' substance of that pois'nous thing And so the Sin and Plague make up one Ring In which Ingraven we may plainly read The cause from whence the judgment doth proceed For Sin and Judgment are so link'd together As he who sees the one may see the other Let 's argue then my Friend I do desire Can a Rush grow up where there is no Mire Can Grass unless by water moistened Grow up and with fair Coverlet o're spread Both Hills and Valleys as is daily seen The Grass which withers whilst is yet green It doth require no toil to cut it down For it doth fade before it can be mown Before all other Herbs it withereth For all its Beauty quickly perisheth Such is the case of those who do forget Their God and on vain things their minds do set Of whom I look upon the Hypocrite A creature who it self a Saint doth write Pretending to a singular Purity And gulls the World with show of Piety To be the chief this wretch I do esteem The worst of men not meriting the Name Even of a Moral Man so base a Creature So supercilious of so false a Nature As no man can his word or promise trust An â—bject sinner nothing fram'd of Dust God hates so much and therefore let him Treat His Conscience as he will and basely cheat The credulous World with a Formality God will not suffer such Hypocrisie To flourish long but in a moments space This painted Flower shall wither like the Grass For God shall soon for all his lofty top Dash him to thousand pieces with his hope He 'l disappoint his hateful confidence And cut him off for all his formal sense Those earthly things in which he put his trust Shall in an instant be transform'd to dust Of no more value than a Spiders house To every besome so obnoxious As what appears most neatly wrought to day To morrow is most neatly sweep't away Shall soon perceive the flattering vanity Of such as think t' erect a family On villany and fraud for desolation Is only built on such a weak foundation His out-side piety shall no more prevail For all those cunning Tricks and Arts shall fail By which he did the World abuse his name Shall not be mention'd but with scorn and shame Let him do what he can to magnify The reputation of his Family Let him hoord up his Means in Chests of Iron And round the same with Grats of Brass environ Let him grasp close the things he loves so well And 'mongst his quickly purchas'd Treasures dwell Watching them with great trouble night and day Yet shall those darling Riches fly away But as in view o' th' Sun a tender Tree Still verdant flourisheth although it be Transplanted from one place t' another yet It growes apace and nothing doth abate Of its most pleasant shape and former strength Till it become a lofty pine at length Although its Roots in Earth do scattered lye Like Mettals in the Veins so as no eye Can trace them some about the Fountain wrap't Some close to th' Arbours and the stone-house clap't Yet pluck it up and to another Ground Transplant it as no vestige can be found Of its first seat so that no eye can know Whether a Tree did e're grow there or no. T' will soon shoot up amain and flourish more In that new soile than ere it did before Even so the Godly though it be their case To be transplanted here from place to place Toss'd with afflictions and with sorrows vex't With grief overwhelm'd with poverty perplex't Yet shall they laugh at length whilst others mourn And all their woes shall to their profit turn For God an upright man will not neglect
shall be the first shall run away When action comes their Troops shall be defeat And stand in fear of every one they meet Their broken Squadrons squandring in their way Through all the Countrey shall become a prey To Boyes and Peasants Hills and Dales to boot Shall not secure them from the hot pursuit Three of 'm in a body shan't remain Most of 'm being captivat or slain Without all hopes of Rallying again But as men in the dark do feel and grope So shall those scattered Forces without hope Benumm'd with fear in lamentable case Whilst the feirce Conquerors closs pursue the Chase Through Ditches Pools and Quag-mires here and there Woods Mountains Corn-fields Pastures every where Run to preserve their Lifes but all in vain Staggering like so many Drunken Men. Cap. XIII ALL this mine ears have heard mine eyes have seen And to my knowledge some such things have been In my own time I have observ'd with care What Changes Turns and Revolutions are In all Conditions of this Life I know There 's nothing fix'd and solid here below All this I know my friends to show you how I 'm not inferiour to the best of you And were 't not for the present wo and pain I do endure I think I could explain My self in manner as methodical And as good Words as any of you all But I intend my Language to direct Onlie to God only to God I 'le speak With the Almighty I 'le expostulate I do desire to enter in debate With him alone for though I understand What has befall'n me is by Gods command And his pure Justice because while such time As God has found and try'd and prov'd the crime Of him he means to punish he will never Send out his Vengeance for what suit soever Our Enemies make to him in a word In Justice only he doth draw the Sword Against poor sinners yet I fain would know For what black crimes I am tormented so I know from God I may such answer have As may hereafter all your labour save I know he will me fully satisfy And tell me plainly where the cause doth lye Of my disease and so proceed to cure By Principles and Medicines more sure Then what you can afford I may expect From him true comfort but what you direct Is but like Oyl pour'd on the Flames alace You talk but do not understand my case Only you boldly vent some foolish lies Which to condemn your friend you do devise But you 're Physitians of no worth or price Indeed my friends I am asham'd to hear Such idle talking and I cann't forbear At length to tell you in plain terms that you Might truly to your selves great kindness doe If you would hold your peace and speak no more Of my concerns and what you 've spoke before I shall excuse then once my friends again I must beseech you free me of the pain Of your discourse and to your selves allow By holding of your peace some favour too For foolish talkers all men do despise But such when silent are esteemed wise This granted I desire the liberty To argue with you for some time that I May show you in your reas'ning where you err And so convince you that what you aver Is not agreeable with Piety And tell you where the fallacy doth ly For here 's your error now upon pretence That you forsooth appear in Gods defence You talk at random your disord'red zeal Over your wit and reason doth prevail I thought in you some comfort to have found But ' stead of that your bitter speeches wound My poor afflicted Soul for you still beat Upon one string and frequently repeat That God doth send afflictions on none But those whose sins do merit them alone From whence subsuming I have merited You do conclude I 'm justly punished This is your constant doctrine this is all The argument on which by turns you fall Though truth it is but what Logicians call A begging of the question for I Your major proposition still deny And for your minor that I 'm such a man As you assert endeavour what you can To make it out I still deny that too So that I only make this answer now Of what you charge me I am innocent And therefore merit no such punishment As I endure Whence all this noise my friends then to what end This tumult of Discourse if you intend Still to oppose why I must still Defend Or if you do intend to personate Your glorious Maker and for him debate Then will I make no answer I 'l not speak Nor Harangues in Gods vindication make As you have done for why my friends would you Have me to bluster out my folly too And treat th' Almighty with such liberty Only forsooth to bear you company Indeed your carriage is unwarrantable Your proud demeanour is intolerable I know my God will no such thing allow That such presumptous Orators as you Should undertake his Interest to plead Gainst any here on Earth he has no need Of your assistance nor will he demand Advice of you pray' therefore understand Your pregnant folly and in common sense Reflect upon your impious insolence You undertake to plead for God will you As for their Clients some crack'd Lawyers do Give to your passions foolish liberty And with great art set out a speciously To gain your point This method some indeed Do use for men but if for God you plead You must be solid sure and circumspect In everything you counsel act or speak Observe then pray our God will not permit Such pleadings for him for when he thinks fit To show the Justice of his actings when He would convince the stolid race of men Of their gross sins and openly detect Their hidden faults then he himself will speak Yes he will speak and strongly plead his cause By quoting his own equitable Laws He 'l speak he 'l speak and show what difference Is betwixt his and humane Eloquence The King of Heavens will speak and show you how His cause is mangled by such things as you Our God himself will make it evident You cannot mannage such an argument And when he speaks why at his very Breath His Orators will look as pale as Death In great disorder betwixt shame and fear When they see God in his own cause appear That mighty God for whom in pur-blind Zeal They thought they had both plead and preached well Whilst mean time all their Eloquence at best Did only serve some Paltry interest Which they 'd glaze over with the Name of God As if his Glory were their period Though in their hearts those men who preach too much Upon that Subject are not alwayes such As they pretend howe're they would deceive The credulous vulgar and make all believe That what they spoke were upright and sincere Whilst really their Eloquence I fear Is but like that at Bar even so
has sent Upon me now this heavy punishment Only to try my faith that men might know Whether I be a hypocrite or no For were I such in this my horrid case I 'd be so far from trusting in his Grace As I 'd abjure him to his very face But O I know I know my God will never Exclude me from his mercies act however He 's pleas'd to vex me now I know indeed He will not to an outlawry proceed Against a man who 's willing to appear And answer all no no I do not fear I fear not that he has rejected me As you pretend for by what I can see Should I just now before my God be try'd I doubt not but I would be justify'd Then who 's the man pray that with me will plead And prove that for my sins I 'm punished Pray' let me know the man that so I may Debate the case a little with him pray Let him appear this favour friends allow That I may know with whom I have to do Pray let me know and I will instantly Argue my case with all sobriety For if I once should hold my peace I dye Will no man plead will no man undertake The argument then my address I 'le make To God alone two things I will implore Of his large bounty and demand no more Two things preliminary Lord I must Request of thee which as thou' rt good and just I know thou wilt allow that so I may With freedom speak all that I have to say In my defence First then some small time Lord forbear thy wrath That I may have some leasure but to breath That I may have but a few hours soulage And not be quite consumed in thy rage Next O my gracious God let not thy hot And wasting anger fright my soul let not Thy lifted hand so terrible appear Nor damp my Spirit with a killing fear Then what thou pleasest of me to demand I 'l answer so far as I understand Or if thou think it fit that I should speak I shall Lord and in favour I 'l expect Thou 'lt answer me For if I be allow'd this liberty With boldness then good Lord I will reply To all the questions thou to me shalt state And with my God take pleasure to debate If I must speak then I demand good Lord How many are my sins pray in a word How many are they tell me am I able To calculat them are they numberable What are my sins Lord of what quality How black how uglie of how deep a dye Why Lord it seems that since the world began Of all the sins practis'd by mortal man Sure mine must be the foulest mine must be Most venomous sins of the first degree For Whilst others sins with modesty have call'd For Judgements it appears that mine have baul'd And with great clamour furious zeal and heat Have ask'd as due rather than supplicat For Divine vengeance and with open voice At Heavens Gates made a tumultuous noise As idle Beggars for their Alms do crie And so by clamorous importunitie Extorted from a mild and gentle God Th' unwilling usage of an angry Rod. My sins have in a Cluster cri'd aloud For punishment no mercie has withstood The rude attaques of their impetuous sute But suffered them to gain without dispute Th' Almighties Ear who has accordinglie Sent Judgements out in such varietie And has me so severelie punished As all my Neighbours never suffered So many ills at once as I do now Besides what I may lay account for too Ere all be done for I perceive the wrath Of God encreases everie hour Whilst death Keeps at a distance and appears to smile Unkindly at my torments all this while Nay which is worst of all men on pretence Of comforting me with great violence Oppress my little spirits that remain And with their bitter words augment my pain What are my sins then Lord ah let me know What have I done Lord to be punish'd so What have I done what sins have I practis'd What horrid Treason have I e're devis'd Against Heavens King what are my faults good Lord Again I beg thee tell me in a word That so I may perceive the reason why I 'm punish'd with so much severity Now pardon Lord my great presumption In those demands let my condition Plead some excuse let me some pity find Some pity Lord to ease my troubled mind Have pity then have pity on my case And for thy Names sake do not hide thy face Because in that I all my comfort place Why then good Lord do'st thou to me deny Thy countenance I am no enemy To thee my God but one I dare avow As far as humane frailty will allow Loves thee with all his Soul and still shall do Why then am I thus punish'd why oppress 't With grief Why doth my Soul enjoy no rest Why is a Creature a poor dying Creature Debarr'd from dying by the course of Nature Why to suck in again a parting Breath Is it compell'd only t' endure thy Wrath To break a Leaf that 's driven to and fro I humbly think it is a thing below The Majesty of God! why such am I Or like the Stuble withered and dry When lightly it before the Wind doth fly Then why in such sad torment Why so vex't In Soul and Body Why so sore perplex't In Spirit Why so bitter Judgements sent Each moment to recruit my punishment Such Judgements make me now Lord call to mind Those sins which wasting time had cast behind Its Shoulder sins which I thought thou had'st not Recorded sins which I had quite forgot But now the Errors of my wanton years Appear afresh hence all these sighs and tears Hence these sad words which issue from my mouth Since for the sins of my disorderd youth I 'm punished thus why Lord I must confess Those whiffling errors do deserve no less Than I now suffer yet I still must cry For mercy from my God or clse I dye For mercy Lord I must thee still implore I 'l call to Heavens for I can do no more For mercy still this liberty at least I hope thou 'lt not deny this small request To a poor dying man allow me pray Allow me Lord that what I have to say In a few dying words I may expresse And then do what thy Majesty shall please With me thy prisoner thy wretched slave One save to be the stopple of a Grave That serves for nothing do then what thou wilt Dispatch me Lord or if my horrid guilt Require that I should live some longer time Why let it be so let my horrid Crime If possible it e're can be content Be glutted with my horrid punishment For I am thy close prisoner good Lord No power on Earth can me relief afford Escape I cannot no my feet are bound My hands ty'd up all naked on the ground More than half-dead o'r grown with sores I
lye Am I not punish'd yet sufficiently Not yet not yet O may it not suffice That I am wrap'd in such calamities As hardly any one has suffered But I must yet be further punished Shall there be no end of my Miserie May not I now have libertie to die For thou hast fill'd my bodie with such pain As in me there doth no more life remain Than what doth serve to make me sensible Of what I fuffer O most terrible Consuming Wrath now let me die good Lord I can endure no more pray now afford This favour to a man in dying case That like Moth-eaten Garment rots apace Then since I cannot live O let me die Since Life it self is but Mortality For mortal man at best I do conceive To be a thing that like a Floating-wave Swells in the Cradle breaks upon the Grave Cap. XIV MAN of a Woman born in cares and teares Enjoyes a few but miserable Years He sucks in sorrow with his infant Breath And. in his husk he bears the seeds of death In his short life he nothing doth perceive But Seas of troubls Wave succeeding Wave He knows no pleasure nor contentment he Nor is he ever from some passion free Yet must this wretch be born Though it were better for him certainly He were not born than thus be born to dye 'T were better for him he lay buried With all his hopes about him covered With the thin notion of an entity Under the arch of possibility Then that he should exist But O he must be born he must appear On Earths wide and capacious Theater To act with mighty pomp and vanity His part o' th' fable of mortality Though 't were but fool o' th' play For whilst i' th' womb he safely lyes immur'd Free of all woe of aliment secur'd By others labour yet he thinks he 's there At best but a well treated prisoner Hence in the belly languishing he lyes And fain would make escape to feed his eyes On things abroad and fully satiate His Virgin-longing with he knows not what At length impatient of this kind restraint He 'l be no longer in this Cloyster pent But with his fellow-mortals he 'l b'acquaint At any rate what e're the event be And in this humour justles out to see This foolish world This world of which he fancies some such things As Beggars when they dream they 're mightie kings And yet no sooner into it he peeps Then instantly the changeling cryes and weeps Appearing in some inward perturbation As disappointed of his expectation In it he wastes his time in fear and pain And oft of being born he doth complain Yet when he goes out of it weeps again As if unwilling after all to part Sad as it is from what his soul and heart Doth truly love which that he might possess He could dispense with all its painfulness Inconstant Creature whom no state can please To whom nor life nor death can purchase ease Whose humorous fancy nought can satisfy Who knows not whether he should live or dye Yet is this man of so much worth and fame Whom all the Creatures have in great esteem This this is he who is so vainly proud Of the three souls which God has him allow'd Whilst those who do his actions strictly view Hardly believe that he has more than two For of the third he takes so little care As one would say his reason lay not there So that of all endu'd with growth and sense He least deserves that heavenlie influence This this is man who doth no sooner come A native naked Beggar from the womb Then assoon Food and Rayment God provides For him with every other thing besides Of which he stands in need ordering all The other Creatures to attend his call Yet after all when he 's accommodat By Providence at such a princelie rate The wretch becomes to him the most ungrate Of any thing that lives For as we know Beggars can bear no wealth So now endu'd with riches health and strength In these external things he puts his trust And quite forgets who rais'd him from the dust This is that formal piece of dâ—llest clay That moulded and unmoulded every day A thing from Heavens only with breath inspir'd That he who gave this breath might be admir'd And not the thing that breaths yet on this breath The Grashoper himself â—o valueth As he with lofty pride and arrogance Above his fellow creatures doth advance And thinks the world his sole inheritance Whilst many Brutes as we may daily see Both longer time and with more peace than he Possesse the same for he poor soul alace Can scarce enjoy but for one half hours space The full possession of what Life and breath Affords him when an enemy call'd Death Doth turn him out of all and then annon Ere he can view it well he must be gone This is the Source from which by progresse springs The Stream of all our Emperours and Kings Those men who with an armed foppery Blow up the pipes of vain Chronology Those men who when in their carreer withstood Will make the world swim around in blood Only to purchase to themselves a name And never think to have their fill of fame Whilst mean time ah poor souls how Iregrate There as ridiculous as illustrious state With all their glorious power they but appear To us like squibs that squandring here and there Put the admiring rabble in a fear Who know not what they are but men of sense Are not afraid of of their imperâ—nence For in an instant as with crackling noise Affording only sport to wanton Boyes These fly in smoak so these men in a tryce After they 've damp'd us with their cruelties Afford us sport in their own Tragedies This then is Man who rambles every where To catch a name who doth no labour spare T' attain his point running he cares not whether Killing and spoiling mixing all together In his hot fury sparing no expence To show the world his great magnificence Whilst really he 's but like one of those Who at our Fairs do set up publick Shows And with his Drums and Trumpets makes a noise In Streets and Lanes assembling all the Boyes And Girles about the Town but by and by His Licence now run out he silently Packs up his Trinkets and by break of day Out of the Town he meanly sneaks away So man on Earth for a small term of years Makes no small noise and then he disappears Have you not seen a silly Butter-flee Attacque the flaming light and wantonly Hover about it for some little space Until its wings begin to burn apace And then the helpless Creature in a tryce Sticks to the Candle spurns a while and dyes So on this dangerous Earth Stuck full of all the species of death Th' adventuring mortal arm'd with single breath Boldlie appears what next why in he flies Buzzes a while about the world and dies Is this the thing then
we call Man alace This the Heir Male of the first mortals race This Man of Woman born whose foolish years Are wasted in a tract of cares and tears If this be he that proud and lofty creature Who calls himself the Master-peece of Nature Why sure he seems to me so mean a thing As he is hardly worth our mentioning Strange then kind Females should be at such pain In bringing to the world a thing so mean A thing which valued by just Estimation Is scarcely worth the pains of Procreation Yet after all say of him what we can This empty thing is all we have for Man Yes in this very piece of miniature So long indeed as Heavens and Earth endure We see the Image Glory Wit and Power Of him who fram'd him so that to this hour In this same Man with no small admiration We read th' Abridgment of the whole creation This is the Lord of Earth yes this is he Who holds o' th' King of Heaven in capite This goodly Mannor and that as appears In Mort main too to him and all his Heirs For payment only of some Tears and Pray'rs I this same fair and fruitful Seigniory Was once indeed his settled Property For ever in his Person to endure Full and in peace before the forfeiture But O thâ—u man to whom in Paradise This fair Appanage God did first demise Man not of Woman â—orn thou poorly sold What was not to be purchassed for Gold Both thine alace and our felicity For a mean toy and for thy fault we dye Ah! hadst not thou with dull indifference Exchang'd thy opulent state of Innocence For this poor mortal state which we possess What Art could have express'd man's happiness He could for ever have retain'd his breath And bid defyance to the force of death He had with great convenience eat his Bread And call'd himself the Lord of Earth indeed But now that in continued miseries He lives a while then miserably dies He owes to thee and for thy curious Crime He and his Race are eaten up by time As Oxen eat up Grass Then what are all these things we pleasures call Wealth Honours Issue Fame What are they all When man must dye when he must formally Abandon all these pleasant things and dye Yes dy e and as into the world he came Naked and poor go out of it the same For as a flower its beauty doth display And suddainly doth moulder and decay So man in gâ—y and verdant youth appears Most glorious in the Summer of his years Void of all sorrow and anxiety Spread like a Garden-flower but by and by When he is cross'd with thoughts and businesse His Tulip-colours disappear apace And as a shadow when the Sun is gone Appears no more but vanisheth annon So all his beauty vanisheth and now Wrinkles succeed it and with much ado His face is known to those who formerly Knew him i' th' days of adolescency At length Time fairly turns his Glass and now The Fable's done and there 's no more to do But that Wrapp'd up in Home-spun Winding-sheet O brave The Lord of Earth be thrown into his Grave Almighty God! what fluctuating thing Is this same Man how frail and perishing How subject to himself how much a slave To passion from the Belly to the Grave Nay such a piece of meer formality Though Mantled with a glorious vanity Of Wit Birth Riches Learning Honours all Which he doth his appurtenances call That even himself when with impartial eye In Reasons Looking glass he doth survey His worldly state perceives that all he can Pretend at most to is to be a Man A man of woes and sorrows cares and fears A poor retainer to some painful years A short-liâ—d man who rarely doth attain To th' age of sixty and doth still complain Either of pains of Body or of Mind So long as within bounds of Life confin'd So that if th' hadst not let him understand He 's chief of all the Labours of thy Hand He 'd think himself in this same contemplation The very meanest part of the Creation Yet dost thou Lord thou high and Heavenly King Take special notice of this foolish thing Thou look'st upon him with a careful eye And tak'st the pains for his security T' enclose him with a wall of Providence And keeps't a constant Watch for his Defence Both day and night so that the power of Hell Cannot against him with their Plots prevail Whilst guarded thus and so well for tifi'd By his Creators Art on every side Yes and of late too I was one of those Whom thou with a strong Rampart did'st enclose But now thou'hast deserted me and I Unfenc'd lye open to the Enemy Now my accusers in great throngs do bring Their several Charges before thee my King Before thee I as Criminal appear At Bar and am environed with fear Now thou dost try me now thou dost intend To bring me quickly to a shameful end Lord what am I a wretched dying thing Not worth thy wrath not worth thy noticing Why try'st ' me then with such severity And of my actings maks't such scrutiny As if of all men I had most transgress'd Thy Divine Laws thou hear'st I have confess'd I am a sinner dost thou Lord expect That mortal man can other answer make When thou dost charge him with impiety Then I do now I do not Lord deny That all the Judgements I do now endure Were merit long ago for I am sure That man was never born since Adams Fall That can affirm he never sinn'd at all What then wouldst ' have me say I do confess I am all sin I am all guiltiness Can any thing that 's good from me proceed No sure then judge me for I cannot plead Not guilty I 'm unclean and who can bring That which is clean out of an unclean thing Then since it is so since I cann't deny I have abounded in iniquity Since I 'm found guilty and condemn'd why then I ask but what is granted amongst men On such occasions to a Criminal Who freely at the Bar confesses all Of what he hears himself accus'd and so Himself on mercy of the Court doth throw Then what I beg great Judge what I demand Is not to live because I understand As I am sadly circumstantiat now Death will oblige me more than Life can do But only since I have confess'd my Crime I may be but reprived for some time That I may have some leasure to repent And not at least out of the World be sent With all my sins about me Remember Lord how man is in his prime But a poor Gleaner of a scattered time A calculator of some triffling years An Almanack of sorrows woes and tears Are not his days and months determined His bounds design'd which he cannot exceed Let then his bitter persecution cease That for some time this Creature may have peace That he at least may be allow'd to live Until
Thus now in Firmance his effects all seiz'd Opprest with sorrow crazy and diseas'd His desolate and starving Family With open mouth for Aliment do cry But he has nothing left to purchase bread And cannot now upon his credit feed Those hungry things but for one single day So that they 're forc'd to shift another way Truss up their little Furniture and so All hand in hand fairly â begging go The news of this so shrewdly doth torment Th' imprison'd man that now his spirits spent With his last breath he payes his Creditors And makes the Worms his sole Executors Ev'n so this grand Oppressour whilst his Sun Doth clearly shine is by degrees undone And all his friends and followers every where When this man falls shall in his Judgement share Nor need his Judges be at so much pains As 'gainst this man to search for evidence For Heav'ns themselves though all men silent were Shall his bad actings openly declare And when this sinner with up-lifted hand Arraign'd for hundred Crimes at Bar shall stand The Earth in Judgement too shall then appear And make out all his Crimes so full and clear As of his guilt that Court shall no more doubt But 'gainst him sentence speedilie give out Then shall the Witness first of all lay hands On this poor soul and as the Law commands Beat him to Death that all the world may see With what impartial measures such as he Are judg'd and punish'd Thus shall this tall and famous sinner die Himself and for his poor posteritie They shall themselves like Rivolets disperse Some here some there through all the universe Poor pedling Miscreants in great straits and wants A scattered rabble the Inhabitants Of all the World a sad Societie Of hateful Slaves without all propertie Without all order Laws and Government Pillag'd by all and yet dare not resent Nor shall this so late numerous Family Amongst them all erect one Colony That may preserve this great mans Memory And for his Goods and Chattels in the day Of Gods hot Wrath they shall all melt away Thus all bad men shall perish thus they shall Who do contemn their great Creator fall Presumptous Persons God doth punish so These judgments everie one shall undergo Who with bold language doth his God upbraid And is not of his flamming Wrath afraid When he sees others punish'd but persists In Sin thinks speaks and acteth what he lists Cap. XXI AFter this storm of words was overblown And Zophar now his utmost skill had shown In talking and as one who had design'd To speak no more had fullie spoke his mind Without all passion with a Spirit stay'd To all this Lecture which his friend had read Thus only Job in calmness answered I do not doubt my friends but when by fame Inform'd of my distress you hither came When hearing of my lamentable state Which has occasion'd so much noise of late Both far and wide you thought it worth your pains with your own eyes to visit what remains Of your old friend When you were pleas'd I say to be so kind I make no doubt but that you then design'd In Sympathetick bowels of compassion T' afford me truly all the consolation Lay in your power I make no doubt indeed But when you see me first your heart did bleed I do believe that you were stupifi d When me first on the Dung-hill you descry'd As your kind silence fully testifi'd Nay furder when you spoke I think you meant To give me no occasion of complaint As since y'have done but that you did intend Some words of consolation for your friend I am perswaded you are honest men Just fearing God and such as entertain No wicked thoughts but openly detest That man who is a sinner in his breast Though in his words and looks he 'd fain deceive The World and make the neighbour-hood believe He 's truly pious and that you do hate The man whose conscience is adulterat I know my friends what hitherto ye've said Was out of love and I would fain perswade My self to think that all this eloquence Is not made use of to give me offence Yet after all my friends I would request You would take notice for some time at least To what I speak hear me but patiently Whilst I expresse my thoughts and seriously I 'll take 't more kindly in my present state Then any thing y 'ave spoke or done as yet This will to me more consolation bring Then all your talk and nauseous arguing Allow me as you love me then to speak But some small time for truth I am so weak I cannot make long harangues and indeed I may complain but am not fit to plead With such as you what therefore I intend To speak shall very quickly have an end My words shall be but few and when I 've done You may proceed as formerly mock on Pray mark my friends then I make no complaint To mortal man for 't is most evident That my complaint is made to God alone To thee all-hearing God I do bemoan My present state my judgements do not flow As you may see from any hand below No they do from a higher hand proceed And in them I the wrath of God do read From him they do proceed immediatly He 's th' only author of my misery My plagues alace are extraordinary Not such as usually inflicted are On other men no they are such as none Have ever yet endur'd but I alone No wonder then that I cannot contain My passion but do heavily complain Nay let us even suppose my plagues did flow From th' hand of man I pray my friends if so Why may not I as other men be vex't Is it so strange to see a man perplex't With misery complain as I do now Pray my good friends what would you have me do Won't you allow me where I find a pain As all men do a little to complain My constitution is but ordinar And I 'm but Flesh and Blood as others are May not I then exhibit my complaint To my Creator since he is content To hear me since he doth to me allow That liberty I cannot have from you And O amidst my woes and miseries My griefs my terrors and anxieties With all the pains that do my soul oppresse How happy am I that I can addresse My self to God indeed it were not good For me if this grand boon were not allow'd For were I to addresse my self to men I fear my prayers should be us'd in vain And I 'd have yet more reason to complain Mark what I say then mark and be afraid And let your hands upon your mouths be laid Mark me I pray observe my sad estate And then I hope you will no more debate Upon the subject with such violence But will confesse with me that Providence Sends plague on men with great indifference Remark me pray observe how God in me Points out so clear that
are the same And as they liv'd together so they dy Returning both to dust by sympathy They think re-union not imaginable And hold the Resurrection but a fable Thence void of apprehensions after death With great indifference they shut up their breath Nor are these men to whom God is so kind O' th' better sort more polish'd and refin'd Then common sinners are no they are such As hugg their sins and honour vice so much In foulest shape with so high veneration They 're not asham'd to make it their profession Such as our God so little do esteem They think his glory but a sounding name Such as affirm the works of Providence The checks and dictats of a Conscience To be but stale devices forg'd by those Envious men whom Fortune doth oppose Men who enrag'd because they can't possesse That which themselves acknowledge happinesse Pick'd to see others in a better state Then they themselves invent they know not what To crosse their joyes and fain by art would move The World to credit what they cannot prove For when outwitted by Philosophy They run to th're fuge of a mystery Yet God is even kind to such as these Who think so of him and speak what they please Who boldly laugh at Death Heavens Hell and all In principles so Atheistical As they to God dar impiously say Prethee begone disturb us not we pray Let us alone torment us pray no more With admonitions which our souls abhor Forbear thy curses and dire menaces Vex us no more but let us live in peace And when we dy thou mayest dispose of us Even as thou wilt but whilst we live we 'll thus Employ our time in mirth and jollity And take our hazard of Eternity For who say they shall ever us perswade Or make believe that thou a soul hast made A something which doth after death exist A thing which preachers call even what they list That such a thing of thy own essence part Infus'd into us by thy special art Should after separation be condemn'd To endlesse torments and by thee esteem'd As useless dross because the thing did take Pleasure in that which thou thy self did make Why this we are perswaded were to hate Thy self and so thy self excruciat For others errors this is somewhat strange And in our thoughts a very poor revenge Give orders pray then to thy preaching men Who in this World spend much talk in vain To spare their lungs for they shall ne'r perswade Any of us that thou a soul hast made A subtile Idea a thing Divine Limbeck'd to th' hight sublimat sopra fine To be destroyed eternally No let us live say they even as we please On Earth let us enjoy our mirth and ease Not all thy art our pleasures shall controle Nor shall the silly notion of a soul Ever be able in the least to check What we resolve by what we may expect Pray who 's this God say they let 's understand Who 's this Almighty Lord at whose command We all must live and dy pray let us know Who is this Prince to whom all here below Must pay such homage who 's this Heavenly King To whom all Mortals on their knees must bring Their praying tribute twice a day at least And once a week give audience to some Priest Who calls himself this Kings Ambassador Whilst he repeats his Message o'r and o'r In such a saucy and incensing strain As those who hear him hardlie can abstain From choller when he is so bold to say All men shall be chastis'd who do not pray To this Great God For what end should we pray who stand in need Of nothing from him those whose dailie bread Comes from his Table those who do possess No part of earthlie Joy and happiness As we do all those whom unluckie fate Has plung'd into a miserable state Those men may lie a begging at Heavens Gate But as for us who live in afluence Who spend our time in great convenience Why should we pray what can he give us more Than we enjoy nay whom should we adore Shall we adore an unknown Prince who shrouds Himself behind the Curtains of the Clouds And treats the Sons of Men with such Disgrace As he disdains to let us see his face The Sun and Moon we know and dailie see But for this God of Heaven pray who is he Or if such adoration we allow him What profit shall we make by praying to him Have any fortunes by this praying made Are anie wealthie by this idle trade Do not we see how those who dailie call On this same God are miserable all Poor and Deform'd Contemptible and Mean By want of food most scandalouslie lean Praying and sleeping by a formal Rule Treated by all the world in Ridicule Why then should we to him our selves applie Who live in Wealth since onlie Povertie Is the return of Prayer shall we request That we may become such no let us wast Our Years in mirth and not our selves betray To miserie but chase all cares away By frolick sports whilst Fools and Beggars pray Yet such even such the God of Heavens doth bless Such cursed things in Honour Wealth and Peace Do flourish here on earth those wretched men Have in their lives no reason to complain They know no judgments nor afflictions they Whilst ' those who from their tender Years do pray And in Devotion earlie exercise Their spirits are involv'd in miseries For shame forbear my friends then to assert That punishments are meerlie by desert Inflicted when the contrair doth appear By what I 've said so evident and clear Nor would I my dear friends you should mistake My meaning or suppose by what I speak Whilst I express how happy those men are That I envie them or i' th' least appear To harbour any thoughts of discontent Whilst those means plentie with my punishment And wretched state of life I do compare Or that I would be happy as they are No God forbid that I should entertain Such impious thoughts or any way complain Of Gods good Dispensations No I 'm so far from that as seriouslie I think what those men call Prosperitie Doth not deserve the name of happiness But is at best but like a gentle breeze Which blowes before a Storm I do believe What those poor Souls do fillilie conceive To be the true supream Felicity Is on the matter down-right Misery O let those mens prosperity to me Be never known let these eyes never see Plenty on earth as I have seen before Let my kind Maker never me restore To anie thing which men call happiness Rather than I should be as one of those And now my friends as I have thus express'd How much the wicked in this life are bless'd So I would have yow know that what I say I do not as a firm position lay Nor do I think it proper on my part That I should so tenaciouslie assert That all such
But when his Lust begins again to to flow Forgetting wholly all his former woe To the same place like mad-man he returns And in those unclean flames again he burns There 's one Crime more of which I do expect You will permit me yet my friends to speak A Crime well known by th' name of piracy Which is on Sea an open robbery I have already spoke of that on Land And now 't is fitting you should understand How that on Sea is no lesse openly Practis'd as from those men who live hard by The Coasts of the Red-sea we daily hear Where in great Fleets those Picaroons appear They re men who having try'd all Trades on Land And finding nothing which they took in hand Succeeded to their wish in hopes of gain At length they became down-right High-way-men Then out-law'd and by justice every where Pursu'd they found there was no living there And so at last to Sea-towns they repair Where buying some small Pinnace with a few Hatchets and Swords and mustering a crew Of Rake-hells like themselves to Sea they go And plunder all they meet both friend and foe They spoil all Trade they make the Merchants groan And to all States and Nations bemoan Their daily losses by such men as these Who 'gainst all justice do infest the Seas They seldom come on Land or if they do 'T is in some Creek where for a day or two They do refresh themselves and with great pain Carine their Barks and so to Sea again At length when by this vill'nous roaving trade Those Sea-opprssours have great Booty made To some small Island where they are not known They steer and there themselves they boldly own To be the Subjects of some mighty State Where they as Merchands do Negotiat With th' â—slanders and riotously spend What by their privateering they had gain'd These in their little Wherryes skim the Seas And ramble on the Ocean with ease Killing and Robbing doing what they please Who though each moment they have fair occasions T' enrich their Souls with pious Meditations Viewing Gods wonders in the deep Yet do they still their sinful Trade practise And both the Laws of God and man despise Though floating shrewdly betwixt Winds and Waves And not four inches distant from their Graves Thus then we see my friends how at all times Men take delite to act most horrid Crimes In a continued tract of villany Pray let us see now how these men do dye Why not bereav'd of Life by Rope or Sword Not drown'd not cut in pieces in a word After they have grown old in sin and known No other trade but that of Hell alone As in some places Snow doth still appear Until the Summer Solstice of the year And undissolv'd in heaps it self doth show Until by heat it doth in waters flow So these grown old in sin and now no more Able to act it as they did before Do softly dwindle to the Grave and there Lye down and rest without all fear or care Nay with such calmnesse and tranquility As if they mean't to sleep they softly dye And with so little violence or pain As even their very Mothers do abstain From weeping at their death and making noise Above their Corps but rather do rejoice To see their Children in th' extremity Of age wealth honours and discretion dye The worms upon their Corps do sweetly feed And they in Grave do find as soft a bed As do the bodies of those pious men Of whom no man had reason to complain Nay though those men with sin so soul and black May well be nam'd villany in th' abstract Yet in their Death there 's nothing singular Nor do they die in horrour and dispair But like an aged Trunk fall'n to decay Insensibly they moulder quite away Now here my friends I thought t' have given o're And of oppression to have spoke no more But that I think on 't there 's a species Of those unhappy men who do oppress Of whom I have not spoke as yet there are Some who for neither rich nor poor do care But bolster'd up with vain authority Against all persons they promiscuously Do vent their rage men full of picquant-wrath Who threaten still Destruction and Death To all who give them but the least offence And to th' afflicted with great violence They add affliction They take great pleasure tartly to upbraid All those on whom the hand of God is laid The barren woman who in doleful tone In private doth her barrenness bemoan They call an useless wretch a barren fool A dry She-ass a pitiful Night owl The widow too whose lamentable state All truely pious men compassionate Those men with all their force and art oppress And makes her Life a Scene of bitterness Nay on the wealthy too their hand they stretch And fleece them all as far as they can reach By heavy Fines give way to Informations Against them and encourage accusations On slender grounds which with great art they draw Out of the very Excrements of Law T' attain the lives and means of those they hate And satiat their Revenge at any rate Their dire Revenge which no man can endure For who is he can of his life be sure If once those men by their intelligence Can find against them any evidence Then must they dy for all their innocence Yet these these are the men who do possess The good things of the earth these men in peace Do spend their time whilst good and righteous men Of want of bread do every day complain But after all though these men sillily Suppose they sin with great security And think God doth not eye them nor remark At least their hidden actings in the dark Yet he doth eye them and will surely bring Those men to an account and reckoning For all these villanous deeds and make them know That though he be a God to anger slow Yet when inflam'd with a just indignation He 'll of his anger make clear demonstration And cut off all their race by extirpation For wicked men though in the worlds eyes They seem to swell and in great foamings rise Blown up by winds of pride to th'hight of all That which poor mortals happiness do call Yet are their honours titles dignities But meer delusions vain uncertainties Things of no value triffles emptie shows And but of short duration God knows For in a few years time we shall perceive Them and their honours shut up in the Grave And their successors prodigally fall A wasting spending and consuming all What those poor Caterpillers had with pain Amass'd together in their lives and then There shall be no more memory of those men Now to conclude then if what I have said Shall not be able fully to perswade Your minds my friends that what I speak is true Come let me hear I pray now which of you Will undertake the question to decide And make appear that I have
tender'st Cob-web of the whole Creation Is that which doth exceed all admiration When ev'n its Wing'd-Inhabitants how e're They at some distance to us do appear To stand sometime i'th'Air yet coming nigh We see they do not stand but softly fly For sure without some motion they could ne're Subsist but a few minuts in the Air. To see a Mass with gravity deprest On such a Downy Pillow sweetly rest And yet that Pillow firm and solid still On which it rests appear say what you will Is that which doth all reason far transcend And if to know it more we do intend Of idle searching there shall be no end Now let us from the Earth a while remove Our eyes and see what order's kep't above Let 's make a progresse through this spacious Air And view what curiosities are there Remarkable i' th' first place let us see What glomerating Bodies these may be Who nimbly tumble all along the Air And no small figure make in their own Sphere Those glorious embroideries of the Skys Whose various colours feast the curious eyes Those Clouds which do above our heads appear What are they ' pray for what use are they there What service do they make why we must know That even in those God doth his wonders show For as we see in Gardens how the care And cautious foresight of the Gardiner Large quantities of waters doth retain In Cisterns to supply the want of Rain Whereby his Plants he moistens now and then So though the Earth is moistned with the Seas Who wash it on all hands and by degrees Through all its Bowels squirt themselves and so At length in Springs and Rivers gently flow For that same end yet he takes further care Of this great Garden as great Gardiner And lâ—st those Springs at any time run dry And so the Earth grow sterile by and by Whole Oceans he pumps up to the Sky By a great engine called Exhalation And in those airy Clouds to admiration Those waters he doth firm and sure retain And only sifts them gently out in rain As through the Cribrous snout of Water-pot The Gardner softly wets his Garden Plot So he from thence this Earth doth irrigate For should one Cloud but burst without debate A Deluge would ensue But O the care Of Providence that in those Bags of Air Those Hankerchiefs of condens'd vapours those So spongious Tankards he should keep so close Such quantities of Waters Tunn'd and Pal'd As sure as if in Bottles Cork'd and Seal'd When one would think by rules of Art to speak Those shoulders for such burdens were too weak And that the weight o' th' waters they contain Might make those vaporous Bottles burst in twain Thus then we see those Clouds created were To serve the useful Water-works i' th' Air. For in these Liquor stor'd in Magazine Is kep't in Cask entire upon design Not to be drawn off but when he 'd supply The drouthy Earth what time it becomes dry And yet those brim-full Clouds sometime appear So settled and almost transparent clear As if no waters in their belly were And then we seem to view the Heavenly Throne In its full glory but when God anon Intends this glory from our eyes to shrowd 'T is but to interpose a sable Cloud A sable Cloud which he can quickly make Out of the clearest as if one should shake A Christal Bottle in which for some space Liquor preserv'd appears clear as the Glasse Because by time its Dregs being separate From th' spirits in the bottom take their seat But once being shak'd what formerly was clear Now muddy thick and troubled doth appear So a few Clouds shak'd by his mighty hand In a thick Curtain soon themselves expand Which he lets fall betwixt us and the light And what was clear before is dark as night Yet by obscuring of his glory so At seasons he doth make its value grow And causes us poor Mortals earnestly Long for his re-appearance in the Sky As those for day who under th' Pole do ly Now since so many Pales with Water full Do hang above our heads what simple dull Insipid Creatures must we Mortals be That don 't the love of our Creator see In all his Dispensations for if e'r His loving care of mankind did appear In any thing in this 't is evident That he thus bridles that wild Element Of Water which would otherwise o'rflow Us all but that he binds its fury so As neither those who 'bout the Earth doth roar And were it in their power would soon devour The Land and be by Shores hemm'd in no more Nor yet for all their daily threatnings dar Those Waters which hang over us i' th' air Upon this Earth in bodies rudely fall But are restrain'd by him who governs all And still shall be by that high power restrain'd Untill all what we see shall have an end How kind a God! how much to him we owe Who for our Beeing such concern doth show How should we love him how should we forbear T' incense that God to whom we are so dear O how should we to rouze his choller fear For if this God do once appear in wrath Hell in his eyes and in his looks is Death With one stern aspect he will quickly make Heavens most entire and strongest pillars shake At his reproof the Mountains cleave assunder By Earthquakes and the Air is rent by Thunder At his command Fire out in lightning flyes And there 's a great commotion in the Skyes All things created do a trembling fall The sudden fear is epidemical And we expect a period of all And yet amidst this anger still his care And love for man doth eminent appear For though he sometimes makes the Ocean swell To that extent as if it would compell The Heavens to give it way to quarter all Its furious billows on this Earthen Ball. When with high-winds blown up beyond Spring-tide It swaggers with intolerable pride Making whole heaps of Froath on high to rise As if it boldlie mean't t' assault the Skyes Yet in an instant he can when he will Make this rude Monster silent and tranquil And make it soon return for all its pride To th' progress of an ordinary tyde And last of all since Earth Sea Hell and Air We 've view'd le ts to Heavens-pallace now repair That he hath garnish'd in such curious sort And beautified so his Empyrean-Court As no eye can behold no tongue set forth No Art esteem or calculate its worth For what created Opticks can perceive That which the mind doth even with pain believe What mortal eye can view the precious things That in the pallace of the King of kings Are to be seen When even in some Kings-pallace here below Pearls Rubies Diamonds make such glorious show With Silks and Silver Walls and Flowers orelaid Cupboards with Gold and Chrystal vessels spread Pictures and Statues to such value wrought As only by great
protest No trouble no affliction no oppression No pain no woe no torment no occasion Shall move me in my sorrow to express What may be even supposed wickedness For whilst I breath I never do intend To speak those words which may my God offend And though since so much woe and miserie Has seiz'd upon me I might possiblie Vent some hot words and have perhaps express't My self but as a simple man at best Yet God forbid that I should ratifie What you have said or my integritie Prejudge i' th' least no never while I die What you have spoke my friends is all in vain For I will still my innocence maintain To my uprightness I do still adhere Whatever to the contrair you aver I 'le not bely my Conscience for all That you have said or can say should you baul Never so much and bitterly exclaim Against your poor afflicted friend and blame My fervent zeal to own my righteousness As a meer humour as a stubbornness And positive opinion in the case For while I breath my heart shall ne're upbraid My tongue with lying as it had betray'd That heart that upright and ingenuous heart That heart o' th' first mould void of Craft and Art With any ne're so small acknowledgment Of what its altogether innocent Most innocent for I again protest I do not know that thought within my breast That for injustice can be quarrelled For did I think that one were harboured Of that kind here I 'de quickly tear it out And for that thought abhor my self to boot No no my friends I utterly detest The very thoughts of sin nor in the least Will I allow my heart to entertain Such guests as those of which you do compâ—â—in For of all men I truly do esteem Those Godless livers you so often name However in this world they daily thâ—â—â—e To be the most unhappy men alive No greater judgments would I imprecate On any whom my very soul doth hate Then that they live and die in â—â—ose mens state I therefore do beseech you now my friends In charity to alter here your minds And not believe that I am on of those Whom you call Hypocrites th' Almighty knows I am not such nor would you ere conclude That I were such if you but understood The difference betwixt a Hypocrite And one that 's pious and in heart upright For but observe now here 's the difference The Hypocrite whilst in great affluence Of worldly blessings he consumes his time And his felicity is in its prime Then he rejoyces is above all hope 'Cause all his wishes have attain'd their scope Then in Gods goodness he is confident Speaks piously and passes for a Saint Yet he will tell you He 'll tell you when his Gold in heaps doth ly That all these Riches are but vanity Things of no moment only stamped Dust And therefore no wise man should put his trust Or place his confidence at any rate In such a mean return of humane sweat That product of the toyl of many years That ballance of so numerous cares and fears As all the profit after just account Those Riches do afford do scarce amount To so much as may countervail the loss Which we sustain in purchasing such Dross Whilst he himself doth place such confidence In this same Dross that he concludes from thence His happiness as Riches do encrease And how much Land and Cash he doth possess ' Has as much Faith exactly and no more And all his Hope he measures by his Store For he himself in this so valueth As he doth laugh at all the Powers of Death Nor can the weeklie Sermons he doth hear To which he most attentive doth appear Delivered with much zeal and force of art Find any passage into this mans heart For notwithstanding all that men can say And all the Burials which he everie day Under his Windows sees that plainlie teach More Death than all the art of man can preach Yet this rich Worldling never can believe That oft repeated Fable of the Grave But in his mind rejects and privatlie Derides the Storie of Mortalitie For while in health he minds his business And has no leisure for such thoughts as these But change the Scene a little homewards bear The Plot and let approaching Death appear Let this bold Sinner be imprisoned Within the narrow compass of a Bed Lay the poor Carrion on his back and then He is the most disconsolate of men His troubled Conscience nothing can appease When now before his eyes that thing he sees Of which he oft had heard that gastly thing Of which before he made small reckoning Appear at his Bed-side with confidence And peremptorily charge him to go hence Then all Confusion Horrour and Despair He quites all hope and onlie now doth fear He fears he fears he trembles all apace When he confiders on his future case Thinks all the Wealth that he has purchased Is very Dross and nothing now indeed Bus stamped Dust whilst when his Chests are full Death his reluctant Soul begins to pull Out of his Body But on the contrair one upright and just Is full of hope and in his God doth trust When that sad hour arrives in confidence Of future bliss he for his journy hence Prepares himself with great alacrity Welcomes his stroak and smilinglie doth dy Or if perhaps in miserie he fall And by Heavens Wrath he is bereft of all As I am now his Spirits never drop But firmly rooted in a solid hope On God as on his anchor he relies And all the roaring Waves of Hell defies Next do you think that when this wretched man In trouble lyes let him say what he can That God will hear him let him sigh and groan Let him his by-past actions bemoan Let him his sins so cunninglie lament As one would think him truly penitent No after all such crying is in vain For he from God no audience can obtain For well God knows he understands full well Not love to him but trouble doth compel This man to pray and were he out of pain He 'd soon return to his old wayes again And therefore our Creator stops his ear To such a subtile and time-serving prayer But he that trusts in God no sooner prays Then God doth hear him and his soul doth raise Out of the Quag mire of adversity As soon as he to Heavens for help doth cry Again when this man into sickness falls Then not while then upon Gods name he calls Then sighs and prayes because he feels some pain And of his sins doth bitterly complain But 'cause with pain not with delight he prays His new patch'd up Devotion soon decayes When Heavens afford no answer but delayes For how d' ye think a man not formerly Accustom'd to the works of piety Who ne'r before upon Gods name did call 'Till now he 's forc'd to do 't for good and all Can when in trouble bring his
a way in luxury Their own Estates then do they by and by Practise new arts and fall on several ways How they may live and waste some foolish days Though they at last should beg from door to door Yet whilst they can they feed upon the poor Why now should all these men of quality Consider but sometime as well as I Have always done that as we all do flow From the head fountain of the Womb even so When we in streams have squandred here and there Where in the eyes o' th' world we do appear One rais'd in value far above another And now disdain to give the name of Brother To such as are indeed as good as we In th' eves of God not dreaming we shall see Those Monuments of our low Birth once more In the same rank with us as we before Have seen why after all alacc we find We 're all but Dust all of one common kind For in our pride when we have run our course As once we lay together in the source So Noble Base and Mean all die as men And in the Grave we poorly meet again And then brave Blood thou quaint device of men How wilt thou rank thy Lineages then Pray what will be thy value what thy rate When in the Grave we 're all incorporate When in the cloysters of Mortality As in the Womb we undistinguish'd ly What 's then the use of thy vain Heraldry All poor and low all naked there appear And we know none of thy distinctions there Then why should I have done the least offence To any Creature who in Natures sense Is of as good Extraction and as dear Doth in Gods sight as I my felf appear These were my thoughts these were my meditations These were my reasons which at all occasions Mov'd me for all men to have Charity So that with no man I dealt cruelly But on the contrair when the poor mans cause Was ruin'd by the rigour of the Laws As oft it happens their severity I 'd temper with some grains of equity And do him all the favour I could do With a safe Conscience the poor widow too Whose Cause before me lay I 'd chearfully Assist and to period speedily Conduct her suit Nor was I less kind in my private state To all in want for I would never eat Nor with contentment take my daily fare Unless some Orphans with me had a share For from my youth I had great tenderness Both for the Widow and the Fatherless To these when some Relations had refus'd And others of 'em crav'd to be excus'd From being Tutors I 'de in Charity Take on my self th' office of Tutory Of these poor Creatures though th' administration I knew would yield me nothing but vexation And that When with great pains I had recovered Their squandred means and in some fashion made Provisions for them when they came to be Of age though truly strangers all to me Why after all my toil I might conclude To meet with nothing but ingratitude From these my Pupills as is ordinar For most of honest men who Tutors are Yet knowing well that men in Charity Each others wants are oblig'd to supply Though with their own loss an in such a case Had I refurd that Office to embrace VVhy those poor Orphans had become a prey To every Petty-fogger who 'd betray Their Pupills interest and not care a whit To ruine them for their own benefit That I might this prevent without regard To th' trouble of it or my bad reward I never would refuse at all occasions To take upon me such administrations But not to these alone my charity Extended whose weak pupularity Did render them obnoxious to the tricks Of all contriving Guardian Empyricks But ev'n to those of age whom poverty Had hurried into want and misery At all times I 'de extend my charity I 'de give them food I 'de give them raiment too And pensions out of my own stores allow For their subsistence so that I may say VVith a safe Conscience If ever mortal stood before my door VVhom th' only hand of God had rendred poor For of such canting Rogues as do oppress The Countrey with a begging idleness I do not mean but if e're he I say VVho truly merit Alms did go away VVhen begging at my door without supply Of both food and apparel or did ly VVithout my walls in winters cold and snow Naked so far as ever I did know For on the contrare I did with much care Cloathing provide for those who truly were Objects of Charity that every day Those Creatures for my well-being would pray And when they on their Garments look't would blesse The man who kindly clad them with his Fleece If ever I took pleasure to oppresse Or in the least injure the fatherlesse By unjust suits though by my influence Upon the Judges I might have from thence Expected what I pleas'd and they had been Well pleas'd to favour me though they had seen On my side flat injustice yet would these Jump o're the belly of the Laws to please So great a man as I was no my friends I scorn'd to use my power for such bad ends I did abhor such shifts and did detest Those sneaking Judges who would dar to wrest Justice to favour any man or bend The bow of Law so high to please a friend If ever then I say I did practise Such unjust courses or did make a prize Of any Orphan as I might ha' done In former times had I been such an one As I 've been represented when my state Was high and powerful thus I imprecate If I be guilty of such villany Then let this arm you see be instantly Torn from my shoulder let the flesh anon In a foul Gangreen rot off from the bone For why should I who firmly did believe The eye of God did all mens ways perceive And that that God who surely hears the cry Of all oppressed will undoubtedly In his good time upon such wicked men Death and Destruction plentifully rain Why my good friends should I who stood in awe Of his great Power ha' violate his Law No no I knew my Maker was too high To be out-brav'd by such a one as I And therefore I such practises forbore Through fear of him and truly did abhore All unjust dealings that I might comply In all my actings with that Majesty Who is all justice and pure equity Again because I did my self perswade Gold was the root of every thing that 's bad And that the love of Riches did entice The best of men to be in love with vice For he whose Soul doth in his Coffers dwell With Bag and Baggage marches straight to Hell For this cause when in wealth I did abound And my huge riches made a mighty â—ound Amongst my neighbours I would never rate My happinesse by th' bulk of my Estate No no I look'd on all I did
the power of this great Prince express Who can his glory even but faintly guess He who doth Kings and Emperours create As he thinks fit and orders every state Below the Heavens as he thinks pertinent Whether for blessing or for punishment Who can describe him For if at any time he doth intend To plague a Nation thither he doth send Some sullen Tyrant fraught with Cruelty Pride Anger Avarice and Impiety And where he means a blessing to a State Thither as quickly he doth delegate Some sober prudent Prince of generous Parts A friend to peace a favourer of Arts Where either in their stations do move As they receive directions from above Sure then as he 's undoubted Lord of all This spacious World so he 's impartial In all his ways he no man will despise 'Cause poor for rich and poor are in his eyes Both the same thing their riches and their crimes He doth reward and punish at all times As either of 'em in their Orbs do rise Without distinction of their qualities For all those powerful Princes who to day Appear in Robes most gloriously gay Who with their present state so proudly swell They laugh at the Romance of Heaven and Hell To morrow you may see them poorly ly Like other parcels of Mortality Incorporat with Dust for all must dy When God commands all must resign their breath Without exception all must stoop to Death Nay greatest men are often suddainly Conveyed hence i'th'twinkling of an eye By poyson Dagger or the blows of War To which great Monarchs most obnoxious are They 're snatch't out of the world and in their fall Bring on their Subjects sometimes national And fiery judgements whilst Competitors For their Succession muster all the force They can to make their several titles good And all the People are involv'd in blood By their ambition that the world may see There is no Monarch absolutely free But him who is above all Monarchy By whom all Earthly Monarchs live and dy Why since it is so then since Majesty Only belongs to him who sits on high Which on the Rock of Justice firm and sure Establish'd to all ages doth endure Should any breathing thing compos'd of dust Dare but to think that God can be unjust Besides my friend I 'de have thee understand That as this Monarch by his mighty hand All that we see has fram'd and ' stablished And governs by the same what he has made Above all powers so his all-piercing eye Views all our thoughts and actions carefully For trust me at he is Omnipotent So without doubt he is Omniscient He all things sees his all-discerning eye Looks through the bowels of obscurity Not earths dark Caverns where perpetual night Doth cover all can cover from his sight The works of darkness or i'th'least conceal Those villanies which he means to reveal No let a sinner run from Pole to Pole From East to West not any lurking hole Will the poor Creature find where he may lye Safely conceal'd from that all-searching eye How then should any foolish man suppose That he who all things sees and all things knows Can be unjust or that he should direct Wilfully or by error and mistake That to be done in any mortals case Which is unjust No sure for as he each mans sins doth know Though wrapp'd up in the clossest thoughts even so He knows his strength he knows what he can bear And thence my friend no living man should fear That what sad woes his Maker has decreed He should endure will e're his strength exceed Since then our God is just and equitable In all his wayes it is not tolerable To hear a man complain as thou hast done Of him that can do injury to none Nay further though 't were lawful to complain Yet all our exclamations are in vain For he whose power is full and absolute Over all mankind may without dispute Do what he lists for don 't we daily see How even the greatest Monarchs are not free From their afflictions how the mighty men VVho think their grandeur can his wrath sustain Are broke to pieces in their hight and laid As low as these who were of them afraid Without all help by his own strength alone He pulls the greatest of ' em from his Throne And with the same breath ere the wretch be dead Sets up another Pageant in his stead For all their actings he doth carefully Observe and laughs at all their policy Their Cabin-Councils are to him reveal'd Although by them industriously conceal'd Yes he knows all and though he doth permit These for a while to do what they think fit Yet when he thinks it time to punish them He takes them down with much disgrace and shame All their designs he doth annihilate And cancells their memorials of State He sweeps them off the world like dust and makes Their Subjects feel great judgements for their sakes Nay he doth strike them openly that all May learn and take example by their fall What 't is for men t' abuse that power which he Entrusts them with and so may plainly see That all upon that mighty God depend Whose absolute dominion knows no end Because his just commands they did despise And did forget they were his Deputies Nor did remember of his kindnesses Show'n to them in the days of their distress Nor how he had appear'd in their defence And mercifully by his providence Had sav'd them from the plots and treacheries Oftner then once of their great enemies Nor thank'd him for his kindnesses renew'd But stead of that with great ingratitude Proudly rejected his authority And mean't to rule by their own Majesty For stead of ruling faithfully and well They to oppressing of their Subjects fell Whose cryes did mount to Heav'ns when they complain'd And audience quickly from that King obtain'd Who rules all Kings below and doth redress All the afflictions and just grievances Of those that are oppress'd hence by and by He makes those Kings as low as they were high In view of all he doth those men debase And sets up others quickly in their place For what he doth intend who can withstand Who can resist his high and mighty hand Who can obstruct his progress tell me who Can hinder what be has a mind to do Whether on single men his wrath doth fall Or that he means a Judgement National For if to any he gives quientness What fury can distrub that peoples peace Of if he means to punish them with war Who can resist him who are they that dare Oppose their breasts to th' torrent of his rage Or with the Armies of his wrath engage When he intends to pull a Tyrant down And in his anger reassume that Crown Which he did lend him lest his people may By his example learn to disobey Their Supream Monarch and be cunningly Enamoured with his Apostacy What counsel what device what power below
be conceiv'd 'twixt God and thee to ly Canst ' make huge Armies at thy call assemble And with uplifted hand make Nations tremble Canst make the Scoâ—ts of Lightnings fly abroad And manage Thunder with a voice like God Canst ' thou appear in splendid majesty Equal in beauty and excellency With me can thou poor-dying man display Such glory and thy self with light array More bright then th' Sun at Noon-tide of the day Canst thou send out the Serjeants of thy Wrath Bring in the proud and prosecute to death All those who dare presumptuously dream They 're such as I can hardly humble them Canst thou sad Creature cover such with shame As I can do canst in the view of all With great contempt make such high-soarers fall From top of all the hopes which they conceive Down to the very bottom of the Grave Canst break the Projects long time harch'd by such As are ambitious to command too much Who vex their Neighbours with unjust Pretences And will not hearken to their just Defences But with their Sword in hand do boldly seize On what they can and do even what they please Whom Oaths and Treaties can no longer tye Then with fresh Troops they can themselves supply Which done A Quarrel suitable to their design Is slily fabricate and then the Mine Doth quickly spring and at the Trumpets sound The peaceful Nations are involv'd around In Blood again whilst the voracious things Mounted aloft upon Ambitions wings With confidence at no less Prey do fly Then that of universal Monarchy Do'st thou then thou thou man of words do'st know The ways and methods how to bring such low Canst ' take them down can'st their ambition crush And make those mighty Conquerours sadly blush To see themselves out-done by such as they Did look upon as conquer'd 't other day And where their Armies us'd abroad to roam Canst ' turn the chace and give them work at home Canst ' crumble all these men in dust together And send them with their glory who knows whither In some dark corner canst thou make them die Where they 're attended by no weeping eye And not in publick where the pitying Croud Of curious Spectators can make proud The dying Wretches where they cann't declaim Or bribe the favour of a whiffling same By a set speech Where none are present where no standers by Observe with what composed looks they die And so spoil Deaths beloved Pageantry If all this thou canst do then I 'le confess And willingly acknowledge thou' rt no less In power then I am and that thou canst save By thy own strength thy body from the Grave But since thou are a man so mean and weak As thou canst hardly speak what I can act Then O poor Mortal how I pity thee That proudly offerest to debate with me Not knowing as thou shouldst do who I am Nor valuing the glory of my Name At its true rate for if thou didst but know With whom thou hadst to do thou hadst not so Express'd thy self as thou of late has done Like mad-man in the view o' th' open Sun For thou must know that I who form'd both thee And all what thou around dost hear or see Must know how all things should be governed Better then any creature I have made Know then that though on Earth there were no more T' expresse my power then those of which before I 've made relation yet since they transcend Thy knowledge and thou cans't not comprehend How and for what use they at first were fram'd And why not men as well as beasts were nam'd I 'll show thee in two special instances The one on Land the other on the Seas How much my creatures do my worth expresse Observe then Behemoth a first-rate creature A beast indeed of a stupendious feature Which you may think is that which you do call The Elephant well then there 's one for all Observe his body how he doth exceed In bulk all creatures that on Earth do feed This same huge Animal I did create This bulky thing these hands did fabricate And yet for all his bulk and vast extent Of bones and sinews I made him content With the poor Oxe that labours in the plow To feed on grasse and Hay and glad so too Observe then Job of how much strength and force This creature is exceeding far the Horse And Lyon for all creatures in the field To th' Elephant in force and strength do yeeld His legs like brazen pillars do sustain His close-built body which with little pain They bear from place to place as he doth ramble Whilst all the other beasts in forrest tremble At his appearance no less honouring That stately creature then he were their king When his proboscis in the Air he shakes With violence he such a figure makes As if a tall and lofty Cedar spread Its Trunk with all its boughs above its head 'T is wonderful to think what strength doth ly In this proboscis what activity What art what cunning what dexterity When with it as one with his hand would do He 'll mannage Faulchion Sword and Dagger too When with it he on man or beast will seize Lift them from ground and throw 'em up with ease To th' Garrison o' th' Tower upon his back Where they are kill'd the sinews which do make His Trunk so strong are twisted so together As branches of a tree and move it hither And thither as it pleaseth wantonly Though big and long with great agility Like staves of brass his great bones do appear His lesser bones like bars of Iron are Amongst the beasts he terrible appears His Trunk the Horse in battel only fears The Lion when he sees him shrinks apace The Tiger dares not look him in the face The Boar the wild Bull the Rhinoceros The Unicorn and Panther are but dross Beside pure mettal when with him compar'd The Stag the Bear the Wolf and Leopard Are all afraid of him and run for fear When like a walking-Tower he doth appear Yea man himself no less amaz'd doth fly When he perceives this dreadful Beast draw nigh For when you men do in closs Battel stand And threatning Swords appear in every hand With many Bows and Shields and many Spears And pointed Launces yet he shrewdly fears Th' approach of this four-footed Warriour Whose blows and throwings he cannot endure Yet this same dreadful Beast I can with ease Beat down like other creatures when I please For though By reason of his bloods frigidity He sometimes lives a hundred years yet I Who made him live can make him sooner die And now this Beast as dreadful as he is Is tame and gently peaceable in this That with the other Creatures who do breed Upon the Mountains he on Grass doth feed As if they were his equals every day Whilst round him all the lesser Beasts do play Now fearless not suspecting in the least
thing 26. They are pass'd as the most swift ships and as the eagle that flyeth to the prey 27. If I say I will forget my complaint I will cease from my wrath and comfort me 28. Then I am affraid of all my sorrows knowing that God will not judge me innocent 29. If I be wicked why labour I thus in vain 30. If I wash my self with snow water and purge my hands most clean 31. Yet shalt thou plunge me in the pit and mine own cloaths shall make me filthy 32. For he is not a man as I am that I should answer him If we come to judgement 33. Neither is there any umpire that might lay his hand upon us both 34. Let him take away his rod from me and let not his fear astonish me 35. Then would I speake and fear him not but because I am not so I hold me still 1. My soul is cut off though I live I will leave my complaint on my self and I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. 2. I will say unto God condemn me not and why dost thou contend with me 3. Thinkest thou it good to oppress me and to cast of the labours of thy hands and favour the wicked 4. Hast thou carnal eyes or dost thou see as man seeth 5. Are thy days as mans days or thy years as the time of man 6. That thou enquirest of mine iniquity and searchest out my sin 7. Thou knowest that I cannot do wickedly for none can deliver me out of thy hand 8. Thine hands have made me and fashioned me round about and wilt thou destroy me 9. Remember I pray thee that thou hast made me as the clay and â—ilâ— thou bring me into dust again 10. Hast thoú not poured 〈◊〉 like milk and turned me to curds like cheese 11. Thou cloathed me with skin and flesh and joâ—â—ed me together with bones and sinews 12. Thou hast given me life and grace and thy visitation hath preserved my spirit 13. Though thou hast hid these things in thine heart yet I know that is so with thee 14. If I have sinned then thou wilt strictly look unto me and wilt not hold me guiltless of mine iniquity 15. If I have done wickedly â—o unto me if I have done righteously I will not lift up my head being full of confusion because I see my affliction 16. But let it encrease hunt thou me as a lyon return and show thy self marvellousupon me 17. Thou renewest thy plagues against me and thou encreasest thy wrath against me changes and armies of sorrows are against me 18. Wherefore then hast thou brought me out of the 〈◊〉 O that I had perished and that no eye had seen me 19. And that I were as I had not been but brought from the woâ—b to the grave 20. Are not my days few let him cease and leave off from me that I may take a little comfort 21. Before I go and shall not return even to the land of darkness and shadow of death 22. Into a land I say dark as darkness it self and into the shadow of death where is no order the light is there as darkness 1. Then answered Zophar the Naamathite and said 2. should not the multitude of words be answered or should a great talker be justified 3. Should men hold their peace at thy lyes and when thou mockest others should none make thee ashamed 4. For thou hast said my doctrine is pure and I am clean in thy eyes 5. But O that God would speak and open his lips against thee 6 That he might shew thee the secrets of wisdom how thou hast deserved double according to right know therefore that God hath forgot thee for thy iniquity 7. Canst thou by searching find out God canst thou find out the Almighty to his perfection 8. The heavens are high what canst thou do deeper than hell how canst thou know it 9. The measure thereof is longer then the earth and it is broader then the sea 10. If he cut off and shut up or gather together who can turn him back 11. For he knoweth vain man and seeth iniquity and him that understandeth nothing 12. Yet vain man would be wise though man new born is like a wild asles colt 13. If thou prepare thine heart and stretch out thine hands toward him 14. If iniquity be in thine hand put it far away and let no wickedness dwell in thy tabernacie 15. Then shalt thou truly lift up thy face without spot and shalt be stable and shall not fear 16. But thou shalt forget thy misery and remember it as waters that are past 17. Thine age shall also appear more clear then the noon-day thou shalt shine and be as the morning 18. And thou shalt be bold because there is hope and thou shalt dig pits and shalt ly down safely 19. For when thou takest thy rest none shall make thee afraid yea many shall make sute unto thee 20. But the eyes of the wicked shall fail and their refuge shall perish and their hope shall be sorrow of mind 1. Then Iob answered and said 2. Indeed because you are the people only wisdom must dy with you 3. But I have understanding as well as you and am not inferior to you yea who knoweth not such things 4. I am as one mocked of his neighbours who calleth upon God and he heareth him the just and the upright is laugh'd to scorn 5. He that is ready to fall is as a lamp despised in the opinion of the rich 6. The tabernatles of robbers do prosper and they are in safety that provoke God whom God hath enriched with his hand 7. Ask now the beasts and they shall teach thee and the fouls of the heaven and they shall tell thee 8. Or speak to the earth and it shall show thee or the fishes of the sea and they shal declare unto thee 9. Who is ignorant of all these but that the hand of the Lord hath made these 10. In whose hand is the soul of every living thing and the breath of all mankind 11. Doth not the ear discern the words and the mouth taste meat for itself 12. Amongst the ancient is wisdom and in the length of days is understanding 13. With him is wisdom and strength he hath counsel and understanding 14. Behold he will break down and it cannot be built he shutteth a man up and he cannot ' be loosed 15. Behold he withholdeth the waters and they dry up but when he sendeth them out they destroy the earth 16. With him is strength wisdom he that is deceived he that deceiveth are his 17. He causeth the Counsellors to go as spoiled and maketh the judges fools 18. He looseth the collar of kings and girdeth their loins with a girdle 19. He leadeth away the princes as a prey and overthroweth the mighry 20. He taketh away the speech from the faithful councellors and taketh away the judgement of the ancient 21. He poureth contempt on