Paraphrase upon Job, A - Chapter 22

" CAN man his Maker benefit, " replied
The Temanite, " as he by wisdom's guide
May his own joys advance? Can he delight
From Him receive, because his heart's upright?
Avails it Him that thou from vice art clear?
Makes He thee guilty, or condemns for fear?
No, Job, thy sins these punishments beget,
Thy sins which are as infinite as great.
Thou of their garments oft hast stript the poor,
Thy brother's pledge refusing to restore;
No water wouldst unto the thirsty give,
Nor with thy bread the hungry soul relieve;
While mighty men, and those who more possess'd
Than serv'd for riot, surfeit at thy feast.
Sad widows, by thee rifled, weep in vain;
And ruin'd orphans of thy rapes complain.
For this, unthought of snares begirt thee round,
And sudden fears thy troubled soul confound;
Dark clouds before thine eyes their vapours spread,
And thronging billows roll above thy head.
Perhaps these fumes from thy distemper rise;
Sits not Jehovah on the arched skies?
Behold the stars, which underneath display
Their sparkling fires; how far remov'd are they?
What can He at so great a distance know?
Can He from thence behold our deeds below?
Thick interposing mists His eyesight bound,
Who free from trouble treads th' etherial round.
Hast thou observ'd those crooked paths, wherein
They blindly wander who are slaves to sin?
Snatch'd from their hopes by an untimely end,
Cast down like torrents, never to ascend.
Who said to God, us to our fortunes leave;
From Thee what benefit do we receive?
Yet He their houses with abundance stor'd;
With show'rs of gold, the god their souls ador'd.
O, how my soul their wicked counsel hates!
The righteous shall behold their tragic fates;
Joy at their early ruin; then deride
Their flatter'd glory, and now humbled pride.
But we and ours shall flourish in His grace,
When searching flames devour their cursed race.
Consult with God; thy troubled mind compose;
So He shall give a period to thy woes.
Receive the laws His sacred lips impart,
And lodge them in the closet of thy heart.
If thou return, He will thy fall erect;
Nor shall contagious sin thy roof infect.
Then shalt thou gather shining heaps of gold,
As pebbles which the purling streams enfold,
Trod under foot like dust. Thy God shall be
A silver shield, a tow'r of gold to thee;
For thou on Him shalt thy affections place,
And humbly to His throne exalt thy face.
Thou at His altar shall devoutly pray;
He shall consent, and thou thy vows shalt pay.
He shall thy wishes to fruition raise,
And shed celestial beams upon thy ways.
When men are from their noon of glory thrown,
And under sin and sorrow's burthen groan,
Then shalt thou say: " Th' Almighty from the grave
Hath me redeem'd; He will the humble save."
Those guilty souls who languish in despair
God shall restore, and strengthen at thy pray'r. "
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