The History Of Job, A Sacred Poem. The Third Book. Poem by Daniel Baker

Mean while loquacious Fame the News thro'--out
Each Corner of the Land had spread about.
The Monster Fame; by Stealth brought forth at first,
And secretly, while young and tender, nurs'd.
But soon grown up, she walks the World around,
Nor can her Birth, or Parents now be found.
And, like a Snow--ball rowling down a Hill,
The further she goes on, grows bigger still,
And shoots, till stalking on the Ground, she shrowds
Her lofty Head unseen amongst the Clouds.
A Thousand Tongues, and twice so many Ears,
She has, and always talks, and always hears.
If true or false she cares not, so she may
Have ever something strange and new, to say.
She never tasts the Sweets of balmy Rest,
Nor takes the peaceful Night into her Breast.
But stands, and watches all that's spoke and done:
Nothing escapes her underneath the Sun.
Bus'ness and Sports, Intrigues of Love and State,
With all the Turns of kind and angry Fate,
These are the daily Burden of her Songs,
Th' eternal Task of all her busy Tongues.
But chiefly in sad Subjects she delights,
Plagues, Murders, Ship--wrecks, Deaths, and dire Affrights,
And sudden Losses gladly she recites.
Now vainly flatters, then as vainly scares,
And fills the World with doubtful Hopes and Fears.

This Lady in her Journey chanc'd to light
On Eliphaz, the noble Temanite.
A Person wise and good, and near ally'd
To God--like Job on the maternal Side.
One Grandame bless'd them both, but Nature's Band
Was straighter ty'd by Virtue's sacred Hand.
Religion closer binds than Names of Blood:
One Father makes not Brothers, like one GOD.

To this great Man the Damsel did relate
The Story of his Friends unhappy Fate,
Losses so great, and Pains s'extremely sore,
Fame, tho' a Liar, could not make them more.
The Hero sigh'd, and from his mournful Eyes
A Flood of Tears did uncommanded rise.
To Bildad straight a Messenger he sends,
And Zophar, Job's and his undoubted Friends.
Both Men of Age and Wisdom, famous both
For Wealth and Honour, Piety and Troth.
Each Head and Patron of his Tribe, and each
By good Example, more than Laws, did teach
Their People Virtue. Such were Princes then,
Not Greatest only, but the Best of Men.

Over the Shuites valiant Bildad reign'd,
An hardy Race, to Wars and Labours train'd.
Their fair and fruitful Land so charm'd the Eyes
Of bord'ring Kings, each long'd to catch the Prize.
As Rival Suitors with ambitious Pride
Strive, each to make the beauteous Nymph his Bride:
With no less eager Emulation They
Contest to make those happy Fields their Prey.
But all their Expeditions prov'd in vain:
The Shuites well their Country did maintain.
For frequent Dangers and unjust Alarms
Had taught them all the early use of Arms.
Their active Youth the Glebe in Armour till'd,
And could as well the Lance, as Sheep--hook wield.
In painful Husbandry, or toylsome Fights
Employ'd, they left no Room for soft Delights
T'unman their Souls. Nor did declining Years
Exempt the Aged; but their hoary Hairs
They with an Helmet prest, and forth they go,
Leading their Sons to meet th' invading Foe.
With Zeal and Courage warm'd, they all contend
Their native Soil and Freedom to defend.

From Nah'ma, Zophar drew his high Descent,
And much his Nation's Glory did augment.
To Arts and Learning more than Arms inclin'd.
His Choice he made it to improve his Mind.
Wise Nature's Book with Care he did revolve,
And Philosophick Doubts could well resolve.
Of heav'nly Bodies he the Knowledge sought,
And to fixt Rules their wandring Motions brought.
He taught the Planets to submit, and run
Their bidden Course, and wait upon the Sun,
The Sun of all Corporeal Lights the King,
The shining Gem in Nature's Golden Ring,
Who in the Center reigns unmov'd, and thence
To all around does Light and Life dispence.
This beauteous Science he adorn'd, and it
To long, successive Ages did transmit.

Those Royal Sages sprang from Zophar's Stem,
Who found the New—born GOD at Bethlehem,
Led by a Star (for as the Heav'ns they view'd,
They saw it rise, and wisely did conclude
From that new Phosphor's entring on the Sky,
The Sun of Righteousness himself was nigh.)
They found th' Eternal Infant softly laid
In the fair Bosom of the Heav'nly Maid.
They saw, what all the Saints of old did wish,
The Deity conceal'd in Humane Flesh.
Their quick--ey'd Faith discern'd a Beam Divine
Through the dark Vail of Mortal Weakness shine.
The Mystick King in Swadling Bands they own,
His Court, a Stable, and a Crib, his Throne.
And to th' Almighty Babe for Help they pray'd,
And with glad Hearts their Homage--Off'rings pay'd.

No sooner were th' unwelcome Tidings brought
But they, with Grief, and gen'rous Pity fraught,
Agreed all three to visit Job, and spend
Some Days in comforting their ancient Friend.
So, mounting their swift Camels, forth they ride,
Attended by their Slaves on ev'ry Side.

In th' middle way betwixt Job's House and Theirs
A gentle Hill to Passengers appears,
Upon whose Side (with shady Woods around,
Woods with the Mount it self Coeval crown'd)
A stately Palace in those Ages stood,
(Now wash'd away by Time's impetuous Flood)
Wherein there dwelt a Prince, who did command
The fruitful Vale beneath, and all the Land
That lay extended wide on either Hand,
Elihu, who (as sacred Records tell)
Was Son and Heir to Mighty Barachel,
Sirnam'd the Buzite; and his Grandsire Ram
Was near of kin to faithful Abraham.
So Great, so Good was his illustrious Line,
Himself a wond'rous Youth, and blest with Gifts Divine.
Deep Wisdom fill'd his Breast, and from his Tongue
A Flood of sacred Oratory sprung.
Wealthy and Free, his Goods he did impart
With an unbounded Hand, and liberal Heart.
And pleas'd with Deeds of Charity, he thought
Himself most happy, when most Good he wrought.

Now the bright Sun was leaving ours, to chear
With rising Beams the other Hemisphere,
When at this House the trav'lling Sages light,
There with their noble Friend to lodge that Night.
The court'ous Hero met them at the Gate,
And there receiv'd them with a Princely State.
He bow'd, and kiss'd, and kindly welcom'd all,
Conducting them into his spacious Hall.
On Purple Seats their weary Limbs they rest,
Mean while within a plent'ous Supper's drest.
On ev'ry side bright Tapers shine on high,
And th' Office of the absent Sun supply.
By which they view'd the Hangings 'round the Room,
Rich Tap'stry stretcht on finest Tyrian Loom.
On which were rare and wond'rous Figures wrought,
That to the Eye surprizing Pleasure brought,
Not light, nor trifling Landscips, apt t'inspire
The Seer's Breast with vain, or wanton Fire:
But serious, chast, and sacred; such as might
No less instruct the Mind, than please the Sight.

The universal Deluge here was seen
Done to the Life, as if't had Nat'ral been,
The Cataracts of Heaven were open'd all,
At once, and down at once whole Oceans fall.
The trembling Earth, with strong Convulsions broke,
Sinks down into the Deep, & with the pond'rous Shock
Forc'd up, vast Tides of unknown Waters rise,
And march to joyn the Forces of the Skies.
Combined thus they madly swell and roar,
And swallow all the Globe, and leave no Shore.
Fat Bulls and Lions, Sheep, and griesly Wolves,
Promiscuous swim: One Ruin all involves.
The tim'rous Fish down to the Bottom creep,
And wonder what new Monsters throng the Deep.
The Birds, long flutt'ring o'er the Deluge, hope
To save themselves, but, fainting, in they drop.
Women and Men in wild Confusion run
From Place to Place, but can't the Danger shun.
Nor Beauty Them, nor Strength can rescue These:
Nor can their mutual Charms each other please.
Some to the Mountains fly, and there in vain
Protract their Breath some Hours with greater Pain.
Some climb tall Trees, and, hanging near the Sky,
Are starv'd, before the Waters rise so high.
But th' happy Ark, which Heav'ns high Hand defends,
Alone escapes the Fate that all the World attends,
And safely riding on the foaming Waves,
The small Remains and Hope of Mankind saves.
Whilst sinking Wretches see it swim aloft,
And envy those at whom they lately scoff'd.

Another Piece presented to their View,
Great Babel built by Nimrod's haughty Crew.
Some burn the Brick, some slake the thirsty Lime,
With Hods of Mortar some steep Ladders climb.
Some ply the Trowel, others with a Line
And Plummet square and form the vast Design.
High Walls ascend, and monstrous Turrets rise,
And thrust their Heads far up into the Skies.
All Hands are full employ'd: when, Lo! from Heav'n
Fierce Thunderbolts, by stormy Whirlwinds driv'n,
Strike the proud Turrets, batter down the Walls,
And their long Project in a Moment falls.
Confusion seizes all. Some wildly fly,
And others under Heaps of Rubbish die.
As Thunder--struck they stood all o'er amaz'd,
And in strange Postures on each other gaz'd.

But that which most detain'd their wond'ring Eyes
A lively Prospect was of Paradise.
Thick Rows of Trees in beaut'ous Order stand,
Planted and water'd by th' Almighty's Hand.
Some for their Fruit admir'd, and some for Shade,
For Profit some, and some for Pleasure made.
The Glebe, so fair and fruitful, it confess'd
It self by more than Nature's Bounty blest.
Pure Rivers gently slide along the Plains,
And moisten all the Ground from their full, flowing Veins.
The rising Banks with smiling Flow'rs are crown'd
Which shed their Purple Beams, and charming Sweets around.
No Herb, nor Flow'r, nor Tree by Nature drest,
Could vanquish those which Art had there exprest.

Here Adam sate in high Majestick State,
Whilst all the Subject--Creatures 'round him wait.
All Beasts that Woods, Fields, Deserts can afford,
Present themselves before their awful Lord.
Young Lambs and tender Kids about him play:
Lions and Wolves stand by as mild as They.
The feather'd Choir meet to adore their King
In num'rous Flocks, and to the Eye they sing.
The scaly Shoals crowd to the River's Side,
And, had not Nature Voice and Feet deny'd,
They had not fail'd, with th' others to present
Addresses from the liquid Element.

Thus GOD's Vicegerent He the Scepter sway'd,
And humble Homage all the Creatures pay'd
To him, as Monarch of the Land and Sea,
Subject to none but GOD, and only less than He.
Nor had this glorious Empire e'er decay'd,
Had he his Sov'reign, as they him, obey'd.

There nigh the Center of the Garden stood
The Tree of Life, yielding immortal Food:
Whoever tasts its Fruit fresh Life receives,
And Health and Vigor grow amongst its Leaves.

Near it, the Tree of Knowledge, spreading wide
Its laden Boughs, by a crystal River's Side.
Lovely and Fair its Burden look'd, but did
More Fair and Lovely seem, because forbid.
Beneath its Shade stood beaut'ous Eve, and in
Her doubtful Face a warm Debate between
The Force of Duty and Desire was seen.
Her Eye was fix'd upon the tempting Fruit,
As if she long'd to tast, but durst not do't.
The sly, malicious Serpent, gazing by,
Observes the Motion of her Hand and Eye,
And, boldly raising up his shining Crest,
Seems to invite her to the fatal Feast.
Now she puts forth her Hand, then pulls it back,
As if she felt some sudden, inward Check.
Now Faith prevails, then Flesh the Strife renews:
Reason condemns, what Sense would fain excuse.
At last she weakly yields, but finds th' Effect
Not such, as her wild Fancy did project.
She eats; and all her Race her Frailty mourn,
Her hapless Race, undone before they're born.

While thus their ravish'd Eyes the Princes fed,
The Board, with fine Egyptian Linnen spread,
Is fill'd with Dishes, not for Pomp, but Use;
Not Vain, yet Splendid; Rich, but not Profuse.
Sufficient for a temp'rate Mind's Delight,
But not to urge a wanton Appetite.
No Gluttony those vig'rous Ages knew:
Excess into a Fashion lately grew.
Health and long Life their Meals did then afford:
Now Sickness and swift Death wait on the Board.

All things prepar'd, down sit the welcome Guests,
Whom their kind Host with gen'rous Bounty feasts.
With rich Arabian Wine the Bowls are crown'd,
And pass from Man to Man in sober Order round.
The sad Occasion of their meeting there
Oblig'd them Mirth and Musick to forbear.
Joy seem'd to them indecent, while their best
And dearst Friend with Sorrow lay opprest.
But grave and wise Discourse supply its Place,
And GOD--like Job their mournful Subject was.
Now they his Virtue and Religion praise,
His Learning then, and wond'rous Wisdom raise.
Now they recal his former happy Fate,
And then bewail his present, chang'd Estate.

I heard it, says Elihu, e'er you came,
The sad Account was brought by trav'lling Fame.
And since this Journey you design to take
For our great Friend and worthy Patron's Sake,
One of your Number, if you please, I'll make.
They rose, and bow'd, and thanks to him addrest,
Then parted, and betook themselves to Rest.

Now Phosphor, leading on the golden Day,
Had chas'd pale Ghosts, and rav'ning Beasts away,
Close in their Dens the savage Monsters hirk,
And Man goes forth in Safety to his Work,
Up rose the Princes. Hail and brisk they rose,
Nor did their last Night's Feasting indispose
Their Mind or Body; but, equipt with Speed,
They rode together, as they had agreed,
In various Talk they spend the weary Day,
And entertain each other on the Way,
Till coming to their Journey's End, they found
The suff'ring Hero on the naked Ground.
So chang'd from what he was, so full of Woe,
That for a while their Friend they did not know.
His Griefs were s'extream, so sad his Fate,
So far beyond what People did relate,
Or they imagine, that they stood amaz'd,
And at a Distance on his Sorrows gaz'd.

So (if sad things we may with glad compare,
Job in the Dust with GOD--like David's Heir
Upon the Throne, so) the fair Southern Queen,
When she the Pomp of Solomon's Court had seen,
And heard his Royal Wisdom, did confess,
That Fame, tho' strangely great, had made them less,
Nor could the Half of what she found, express.

They wept aloud, and each his Garment tore,
And Dust upon their Comely Heads they pour,
Deep Signs of inward Anguish, and a Breast
With Sorrows, only less than His, possest.
They came to comfort and appease his Grief:
But now Themselves do want the same Relief.
Long time they sit in Ashes by their Friend,
And, dumb with Horror, mournfully attend.

Sev'n times that restless Traveller, the Sun,
His well--known Course from East to West had run:
As oft the Moon her beaut'ous Face had shown,
And lighted Mortals, when the Day was gone,
Before the Tempest, struggling in their Mind,
Could thro' their Lips its doleful Passage find.
Till Job, unable longer to contain
His swelling Passion, rose, and thus he did complain.

Curs'd be the Day when first I saw the Light!
And let eternal Horrors seize the Night
Of my Conception! oh! Why was I born
With restless Pains and Sorrows to be torn?
Why was my foolish Mother fondly pleas'd
To see her Womb of this sad Burden eas'd?
Why was my Father overjoy'd to see
His Likeness and vain Hopes reviv'd in me;
In me, whom This and future Ages shall
Of all Mankind the most unhappy call;
Whose Fate shall be the Form of Cursing, when
The worst of Ills are wish'd t'the worst of Men?
That black and dismal Day let GOD despise,
And from it turn his Beatifick Eyes.
Let not the Sun vouchsafe thereon to rise,
Nor smile upon it from the the lofty Skies.
Let Hellish Darkness challenge it, and let
Death's baleful Shadow brooding on it sit
To hatch ill--boding Hours, that nothing may
Prosper, attempted on that luckless Day.
Let Men to it eternal Malice bear,
And blot its Name from out the Calendar.
Let each revolving Year hereafter chuse,
Rather than That should come, a Day to lose.
Or if it needs must come, and nothing may
The sure establish'd Course of Nature stay,
Let all Mankind wish it at least away.
Let dire Misfortune claim it for her own,
And march with all her Terrors up and down.
Let no glad Object on that Day appear,
And only dreadful Sounds afflict the Ear.
Let frightful Sights abound; and heavy Moans
Be heard, loud Shrieks, and dismal, dying Groans,
Let not so much as one kind Star be seen,
To guide the Steps of lost, despairing Men.
Beneath eternal Darkness let it lie,
And never see the Morning's chearful Eye.
Because it shut not up my Mother's Womb,
But open see the Doors for me to come
Into a World of Woe, where Storms arise,
And Floods of Tears stream ever from mine Eyes.

Why did the Widwife do her Part? Or why
Did not the Nurse her cruel Aid deny,
And throw me down, as soon as Born, to Die?
Then had I slept, and on the peaceful Breast
Of easy Death enjoy'd eternal Rest.
With mighty Kings and Politicians then
I had dwelt in Safety, and their equal been.
Alive, vast Projects to themselves they fram'd,
At mighty Names, and mighty Fortunes aim'd,
Laid wast the weaker, neighb'ring States, that they
Alone might reign with undisputed Sway,
Rich Palaces, and strong--limb'd Castles built,
Vast Seas of Blood, and boundless Treasure spilt,
And fill'd their Houses with the wealthy Spoils
Of ravish'd Provinces, and conquer'd Isles.
Yet Peace and Rest they never could obtain:
Those rich, inestimable Gifts in vain
They labour'd for, till yielding up their Breath,
They gently sunk into the Arms of Death.
Now in the gloomy Grave secure they rest,
And neither others, nor themselves molest.

Thrice happy State! where Pain and Labour cease,
And weary Men he down in endless Peace,
From Chains releas'd poor Captives there rejoice,
Nor hear th' insulting Tyrant's threat'ning Voice,
There Small and Great on equal Terms agree,
And from his cruel Lord the Slave is free.
Princes and Swains forget there all Degrees,
Nor Them Ambition racks, nor Envy, These.

Oh! Why are Men compell'd to live in Woe?
Still to sit up, who fain to Bed would go?
Why does unkind; hard--hearted Fate deny,
Their Grief its only Sov'reign Remedy?
As Men for Gold dig deep into the Earth,
And from her Womb rip out the shining Birth,
With no less Eagerness, and careful Thought,
Is Death by Men opprest with Trouble sought:
They shout, with Joy transported, when they have
In view the Prize they court, a silent Grave.

Oh! Why is useless Light on him bestow'd,
Who groaning lies beneath a pond'rous Load
Of Misery? Whom GOD hath hedg'd about
With pointed Thorns, and left no Passage out?
Deep Sighings break my Heart before I eat,
And dismal Groans disrelish all my Meat.
I roar for Pain, in vain for Comfort seek.
And, like a River, Tears ran down my Cheek.

Alas! I never thought my self secure,
Nor high advanc'd above Misfortune's Pow'r.
I flatter'd not my self, nor hop'd that I
Alone perpetual Sun--shine should enjoy:
Or that my vent'rous Bark alone should be
Ensur'd from Ship--wreck on the Stormy Sea
Of treacherous, and frail Mortality.
I look'd for Tempests and tumultuous Hours,
For Days all black with Clouds, & wet with Show'rs,
For Pains and Losses. And, behold! They're here;
They're here, alas! nor causeless was my Fear.
Tell me my Friends: Say, did you ever see
A Man afflicted and distrest, like me?
So soon cast down (so soon, it well might seem,
Did not quick Sence evince its Truth, a Dream)
From extream Wealth and Joy, to Grief and Want extream.