Job, Chapter 5

Now try what Patron, can thy cause defend:
What Saint wilt thou solicite, or what Friend?
The Storme of his owne rage the foole confounds:
And Envies rankling sting th' imprudent wounds.
Oft have I seene him, like a Cedar, spread
His ample Roote; and his ambitious Head
With Clouds invest: then, to th' amaze of all,
Plow up the Earth with his prodigious fall.
His wandring Orphans finde no safe retreat;
But friendlesse suffer at the Iudgement-Seat:
The greedy eate the harvest of their toile,
Snatcht from the scratching thornes; to theives a spoile.
Though Sorrow spring not from the wombe of Earth;
Nor troubles from the Dust derive their Birth:
Yet man is borne to numerous Miseries,
As dying Sparks from trembling flames arise.
Should I the burthen of thy face sustaine?
I would not justifie myselfe in vaine:
But at his feet my humble Soule deject
With prayers and teares; who wonders can effect:
As infinite, as great; and farre above
That Spheare wherein our low Conceptions move.
He waters from celestiall Casements powers,
Which fall upon the furrowed Earth in showers:
To comfort those who mourne in want; and give
The famisht food, that they may eate and Live.
The Counsels of the Subtill he prevents;
And by his wisedome frustrates their Intents:
Intangles in the Snares themselves contrive;
Who desperately to their owne Ruine drive.
They meete with Darknesse in the clearest Light:
And grope at Noone, as if involv'd with Night.
Licentious Swords, Oppression arm'd with power,
Nor Envies jawes, the Righteous shall devoure.
They ever hope, though exercis'd with care:
The wicked silen'st by their owne despaire.
Happy is he whom Gods owne hands chastise.
Since so, let none his Chastisements despise.
For he both hurts and heales: binds up againe
The wounds he made, and mittigates their paine.
In sixe afflictions will thy refuge be;
And from the seventh, and last, shall set thee free.
From meager Famines bloodlesse Massacrees;
And from the cruell thirst of horrid Warres:
Preserved from the scourge of poysonous tongues;
The sting of Malice, and insulting Wrongs.
Thou shalt in safetie smile; when all the Earth
Shall suffer by the rage of Warre and Death.
The Midian Tyger, The Arabian Beare,
Nor Idumaean Lion shalt thou feare.
They all their native fiercenesse shall decline;
And senselesse Stones shall in thy aide combine.
Thy Tents shall flourish in the Joyes of Peace;
The wealth and Honour of thy House increase:
Thy Children, and their off-spring, shall abound;
Like blades of grasse, that cloath the pregnant ground.
Thou, full of Dayes, like waighty shocks of Corne
In season reapt, shall to thy grave be borne.
This truth, by long experience learnt, apply