Job, if thou canst debate with me,
As thou didst boldly wish,
I'll but produce, for humbling thee,
A formidable fish.

Canst out the great Leviathan
Draw out with hook or line?
Or in the deep the whale trepan
With common baits of thine?

Canst thou run through his gills a thorn,
A jav'lin through his jaw?
Or with a cord, he laughs to scorn,
Ashore the monster draw?

Will he, like man in great distress,
With tender words entreat
Thy pity, and with meek address,
His moan to thee repeat?

Will he a contract with thee make,
To be a slave for ay?
Tam'd as a bird, wilt thou him take
To be thy children's play?

Will he be bound, and so submiss,
As thy domestic sort?
He that to man a terror is
Be to thy maids a sport?

Shall neighbours make a hearty meal
Of him when catch'd by art?
And soon his bones and oil for sale
Among the merchants part?

Is't easy work his scaly skin,
With barb'd irons to prick;
His head with spears to assassine,
And touch him to the quick?

Suppose thy hardy valour should
The furious beast assail,
Think'st thou that swords and daggers would
Soon o'er his strength prevail?

Suppose thou shouldest with thy life
Escape the dreadful rage,
Thou wouldst remind the fearful strife,
And dread anew t' engage.

The hope of conquest here is vain;
For, with amazing fright,
The stoutest hero would, as slain,
Faint at the monster's sight.

In sleep no giant iron-clad,
Dare his disturber be;
What mortal, then, with fury mad,
Dare face and fight with me?