Job, Chapter 20

Thus answer'd the incenst Nahamathite:
I had beene silent, but thy words excite
My strugling thoughts to vindicate the wrong
Cast on our zeale by thy reproachfull tongue.
This is a truth which with the world began;
Since earth was first inhabited by man:
Sinn's triumph in swift misery concludes;
And flattering joy the Hypocrite deludes.
Although his excellence to Heaven aspire;
Though radiant Beames his shining Browes attire;
He, as his dung, shall perish on the ground:
Nor shall the impression of his Steps be found;
But like a troubled Dreame shall take his flight:
And vanish as a Vision of the Night.
No mortall Eye shall see his face againe:
Nor sumptuous roofes their builder entertaine.
If he have Children, they shall serve the poore:
And goods by rapine got, enforc't, restore.
The punishments of Luxury and Lust
Shall eate his Bones; nor leave him in the Dust.
Though vice, like sweet confections, please his tast;
Although betweene his tongue and pallate plac'd:
Though he preserve, and chew it with delight;
Nor bridle his licentious appetite:
Yet shall it in his boyling Stomack turne
To bitter poyson; and like wild-fire burne.
He shall cast up the wealth by him devour'd,
Like vomit from his yawning Entrailes powr'd:
The gall of Aspes with thirsty lips suck in;
The Vipers deadly teeth shall pierce his skin:
Nor ever shall those happy Rivers know,
Which with pure oyle and fragrant honey flow.
The Riches purchas'd by his Care and sweat,
He shall resigne; nor of his Labors eate:
But restitution to the value make;
Nor joy in his extorted treasure take.
Since he the poore forsooke; the weake opprest;
The Mansion, by another built, possest:
His Belly never shall be satisfi'd;
Nor he with his adored wealth supply'd.
Of all his Sustenance at once bereft:
No Heire shall strive to inherit what is left.
He, in the pride of his full Glory, shall
To Earth descend; and by the wicked fall.
About to feed; Jehova's flaming Ire
Shall blast his hopes, and mixe his food with fire.
While from the raging sword he vainely flyes,
A Bow of Steele shall fixe his trembling thighes.
Darts through his flowing gall shall force their way:
Eternall terrors shall his Soule dismay.
Thick darknesse shall infold; a fire unblowne
Devoure his Race, by their misfortunes knowne.
Heaven shall reveale his close impieties:
And Earth, by him defil'd, against him rise.
His Substance in that Day of wrath shall waste;
Like sodaine Torrents from steepe Mountaines cast.
This is the Portion of the Hypocrite:
Such Horrors shall on the Blasphemer light.