Lo, all these things mine eye hath seen,
Mine ear hath heard, my heart hath known.
What ye perceive, to me hath been
In equal measure shown.
I am not your inferior,
But unto God Himself would seek;—
With him to reason would implore,
And to the Almighty speak.
For all physicians valueless,
Forgers of lies do ye appear;—
Would that your words of emptiness
Might cease to vex mine ear.
If ye, henceforth, your peace would hold,
In this your wisdom should be shown;—
Then hearken whilst my thoughts are told,
And let me plead alone.
Will ye for God with falsehood speak?
And by deceit with Him contend?
Or with respect of persons, seek
God's dealings to defend?
Would ye that God your hearts should try?
Should search you out and inly scan?
Him do ye mock by flattery,
As man deceiveth man?
Though your injustice ye would hide,
To him it surely shall be known,
And he will turn at length, and chide
The wrong that ye have done.
Doth not his dread upon you fall?
His excellence your souls dismay?
As ashes are your maxims all—
Your words as miry clay.
Let come what may, I now will speak.—
Then hold your peace;—no more I care,
Though in mine hand my life I take—
Though thus my flesh I tear.
Yet will I trust Him, though His hand
Be raised to slay me—and the while
My cause will I maintain—and stand
Before his presence still.
And when mine innocence is clear,
Himself will my salvation be;
Whilst from before His face, in fear
The hypocrite shall flee.
Then mark attentively my word,
And be my declaration tried—
I know that when my cause is heard,
I shall be justified.
Who then will take the accuser's place?
Against me who shall plead again?
For now my very breath shall cease
If silent I remain.
Two things alone of Thee I crave—
That Thou thine hand wilt take away,
And from Thy dread my soul wilt save,
Nor let thy fear dismay.
Call Thou, and I no more will seek
Myself to hide, or fly from Thee
Thou then wilt hearken whilst I speak
And do Thou answer me.
Fain would I mine offences know,—
The sum of my transgressions see;
My sin's amount wilt Thou not show,
And mine iniquity?
Why dost Thou count me as Thy foe?
Why from me dost Thou hide Thy face?
Why crush the leaf blown to and fro,
And the dry stubble chase?
Against me, and before mine eyes,
Thou writest words of bitterness;
My sins of youth and vanities,
Thou makest me possess.
Though from Thy power I cannot flee,
Thou dost my feet in bondage hold,
Branded are they with infamy,
And all my path-ways told.
Yet he thus mark'd by Thee and bound,
Is as a garment cast away—
A thing moth-eaten and unsound,—
Consuming in decay.