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death_n life_n lord_n time_n 9,350 5 3.4640 3 true
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
B03601 A godly ballad of the just man Job. Wherein his great patience he doth declare, his plagues and miseries, and yet did not despair. The tune is, The merchant. 1678-1681? (1681) Wing G933I; Interim Tract Supplement Guide EBB65H[76] 838 1

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A Godly Ballad of the Just Man Job Wherein his great patience he doth declare His plagues and his miseries and yet did not despair The Tune is The Merchant WAlking all alone No not long agone I heard one wail and weep alas he said I am laid In sorrow strong and deep To hear him cry I did reply and privily abode there did I find in secret mind the just and patient Job His woful pain Did me constrain by force to wail and moan God did him prove how he did love the living Lord alone In heaviness He did express these words with bitter tears alas poor man wretched I am in care my self out-wares This mortal life Is but a strife a battel great and strong my years also to wast and go and not continue long The day wherein I did begin to move and stir my breath would God I had an exchange made and turned unto death So should not I In misery be wrapped as I am the time and day well curse I may when to this world I came For my faults past I am out-cast and of all men abhor'd O that I might once stand in sight to reason with the Lord. I should then know Why he doth show this extream cruelty upon his flesh which is but grass and born is for to dye From top to toe I feel with woe that sorrow is my meat put to exile with Botch and Boyl and dung-hill is my seat My Kinsfolk talk And by me walk wondring at my fall they count my state unfortunate and so forsake me all My children five Which were alive they all be quite destroy'd the Plague fell on my Cattel with all that I enjoy'd Should I for them My God Blaspheme and his good gifts despise that will I not but take my lot giving his name the praise They were not mine But for a time I know well it is so God gave them me why should not he again take them me fro Thus having said Full still I staid his end for to behold I there did see his felicity increasing manifold I know well then How patient men should not suffer in vain but shall be sure to have pleasure rewarded for their pain FINIS Printed for F. Coles T. Vere I. Wright J. Clarke W. Thackeray and T. Passenger