Job, Chapter 22

Can Man his Maker benefit (replide
The THEMANITE) as he by wisedomes guide.
May his owne joyes advance? can he delight
From him receive, because his heart's upright?
Availes it him that thou from vice art cleare?
Makes he thee guilty? or condemnes for feare?
No Iob, thy Sinnes these punishments beget:
Thy Sinnes which are as infinite as great.
Thou of their garments oft hast stript the poore;
Thy Brothers pledge refusing to restore:
No water would'st unto the thirsty give;
Nor with thy bread the Hungry Soule relieve:
While mighty men, and those who more possest
Then serv'd for Ryot, surfeit at thy feast.
Sad widowes, by thee rifled, weepe in vaine:
And ruin'd Orphants of thy Rapes complaine.
For this unthought of snares begirt thee round;
And sodaine feares thy troubled Soule confound:
Darke clouds before thine Eyes their Vapors spread;
And thronging Billowes roule above thy head.
Perhaps these fumes from thy distemper rise:
Sits not Jehova on the arched Skies?
Behold the Stars, which underneath display
Their sparkling fires; how farre remov'd are they?
What can he at so great a distance know?
Can he from thence behold our deeds below?
Thicke interposing Mists his eye-sight bound:
Who free from trouble treads th'Etheriall Round.
Hast thou observ'd those crooked paths, wherein
They blindly wander who are slaves to Sin?
Snatcht from their hopes by an untimely end:
Cast downe like Torrents, never to ascend.
Who said to God; us to our fortunes leave:
From thee what benefit doe we receive?
Yet he their Houses with aboundance stor'd.
With Showers of Gold: the God their soules ador'd.
Oh how my Soule, their wicked Counsell hates!
The Righteous shall behold their tragick fates;
Joy at their early-Ruine: then deride
Their flattered Glory, and now-humbled Pride.
But we, and ours, shall flourish in his Grace;
When searching Flames devoure their cursed Race.
Consult with God; thy troubled mind compose:
So he shall give a period to thy woes.
Receive the Lawes his sacred Lips impart:
And lodge them in the closet of thy heart.
If thou returne; he will thy fall erect:
Nor shall contagious Sinne thy Roofe infect.
Then shalt thou gather shining heaps of Gold,
As pebles which the purling Streames infold:
Trod under foot like dust. Thy God shall be
A Silver shield, a Tower of Gold to thee.
For thou on him shalt thy affections place:
And humbly to his Throne exalt thy face.
Thou at his Altar shalt devoutly pray:
He shall consent; and thou thy vowes shalt pay.
He shall thy wishes to fruition raise:
And shed celestiall Beames upon thy Wayes.
When Men are from their Noone of Glory throwne;
And under Sinne and Sorrowes burthen grone:
Then shalt thou say; Th'Almighty from the grave
Hath me redeem'd: He will the humble save.
Those guilty Soules who languish in Dispaire,
God shall restore; and strengthen at thy Prayer.