Classic Poem

Paraphrase upon Job, A - Chapter 13

This by mine eyes and ears have I convey'd
Down to my heart, and in that closet laid.
Need I in depth of knowledge yield to you?
Is not as much to my discretion due?
O that th' All-seeing Judge, Who cannot err,
Would hear me plead, and with a wretch confer!
You corrosives into my wounds distill;
And ignorant artists, with your physic kill.
Ah! shame you not to vent such forgeries?
Seal up your lips and be in silence wise.
And since you are by far more fit to hear,
Than to instruct, afford my tongue an ear.
O will you wickedly for God dispute,
And by deceitful ways strive to confute?
Are you, in favour of His person, bent
Thus to prejudicate the innocent?
Needs He an advocate to plead His cause,
To justify untruths against His laws?
Can you on Him such falsities obtrude,
And as a mortal the Most Wise delude?
Will it avail you, when He shall remove
Your painted vizors? will not He reprove,
And sharply punish, if in secret you,
For favour or reward, injustice do?
Shall not His excellence your souls affright,
His horrors on your heads like thunder light?
Your memories to ashes must decay,
And your frail bodies are but built of clay.
Forbear to speak till my conceptions shall
Discharge their birth, then let what will befall,
Why should I tear my flesh, cast off the care
Of future life, and languish in despair?
Though God should kill me, I my confidence
On Him would fix, nor quit my own defence.
He shall restore me by His saving might,
Nor shall the hypocrite approach His sight.
Give me your ears, O you who were my friends,
While injur'd innocence itself defends,
I am prepar'd, and wish my cause were tried,
In full assurance to be justified.
Begin: Who will accuse? Should I not speak
In such a truth, my heart with grief would break.
Just Judge, two lets remove, that, free from dread,
I may before Thy high tribunal plead.
O let these torments from my flesh depart,
Nor with Thy terrors daunt my trembling heart.
Then charge, so I my life may justify,
And to my just complaint do Thou reply.
What sins are those that so pollute my breast?
O, show how oft I have Thy laws transgress'd.
Wilt Thou Thy servant of Thy sight deprive,
And as an enemy to ruin drive?
Wilt Thou a wither'd leaf to powder grind,
Toss'd in the air by ev'ry breath of wind?
Or with Thy lightning into ashes turn
Such worthless stubble, only dried to burn?
Thou hast indicted me of bitter crimes;
Now punish'd for the faults of former times.
Lo! my restrained feet Thy fetters wound,
Watch'd with a guard, and rooted in the ground.
Like rotten fruit I fall, worn like a cloth
Gnawn into rags by the devouring moth.English