Classic Poem

A GAIN , when all the radiant sons of light
Before His throne appear'd, Whose only sight
Beatitude infus'd; th' Inveterate Foe,
In fogs ascending from the depth below,
Profan'd their blest assembly. " What pretence, "
Said God, " hath brought thee hither, and from whence? "
" I come, " said he, " from compassing the earth,
Their travails seen who spring from human birth. "
Then God: " Hast thou My servant Job beheld?
Can his rare piety be parallel'd,
His justice equall'd? Can alluring vice,
With all her sorceries, his soul entice?
His daily orisons attract Our ears,
Who punishment less than the trespass fears:
And still his old integrity, retains
Through all his woes, inflicted by thy trains. "
When he, whose labouring thoughts admit no rest,
This answer threw out of his Stygian breast:
" Job to himself is next. Who will not give
All that he hath, so his own soul may live?
Stretch out Thy hand, with aches pierce his bones,
His flesh with lashes, multiply his groans;
Then if he curse Thee not, let Thy dire curse
Increase my torments, if they can be worse. "
To whom the Lord: " Thou instrument of strife,
Enjoy thy cruel wish, but spare his life. "
The Soul of Envy from His presence went,
And through the burning air made his descent.
To execution falls. The blood within
His veins inflames, and poisons his smooth skin.
Now all was but one sore, from foot to head
With burning carbuncles and ulcers spread;
He on the ashes sits, his fate deplores,
And with a potsherd scrapes the swelling sores.
His frantic wife, whose patience could not bear
Such weight of miseries, thus wounds his ear:
" Is this the purchase of thy innocence?
O fool, thy piety is thy offence.
He whom thou serv'st hath us of all bereft,
Our children slain, and thee to torments left.
Go on, His justice praise; O rather fly
To thy assur'd relief: Curse God, and die. "
" Thou wretch, thy sex's folly, " he replied,
" Shall we who have so long His bounty tried,
And flourish'd in His favour, now not bear
Our harms with patience, but renounce His fear? "
Thus his great mind his miseries transcends,
Nor the least accent of his lips offends.
Now was his ruin by the breath of fame
Divulg'd through all the East; when Zophar came
From pleasant Naamath: wise Eliphas
From Theman, rich in palms but poor in grass:
And Bildad from Suitah's fruitful soil,
Prais'd for the plenty of her corn and oil.
These meet from sev'ral quarters to condole
With their old friend, and comfort his sad soul.
Yet at the first unknown; his miseries
Had so transform'd him; known, they join'd their cries,
Wept bitterly, their sable mantles tare,
Rais'd clouds of dust, that fell upon their hair.
Sev'n days they sate beside him on the ground,
As many nights in silent sorrow drown'd.
For yet they knew the torrent of his woe
Would by resistance more outrageous grow.