Are there not mockers with me, whose design
Mine eye doth penetrate?
Who will be pledg'd, and joining hands with mine
Now, as my surety wait?
Whose hearts from understanding turn aside,
In nought shall they prevail,
Who hath with flattering tongue his friends belied,
His children's eyes shall fail.
A by-word to the people, and a jest
Before them, am I made;
Like as a shadow all my members waste—
Mine eyes with sorrow fade.
Whilst upright men view with astonishment
These things before their eyes,
Against deceivers shall the innocent,
With spirit stirr'd, arise.
The righteous also, with a stedfast will,
His onward way shall go,
And he whose hands are pure, shall stronger still,
And ever stronger, grow.
But as for you, though I your words recall,
From them I nought can learn;
Not one wise man I find among you all,
So ye may now return.
Crush'd are my purposes; my days have fled;
My heart's desires are o'er;
For me the day with night is overspread,—
Light shineth there no more.
Soon shall I to the grave, my home, depart;
In darkness is my bed;—
Unto corruption, "thou my father art,"
Already have I said.
"Thou art my mother, and my sister thou,"
I to the worm have cried;—
As for my hope, who can behold it now?
And where doth it abide?
It shall with me down to the tomb descend,
Whose bars shall o'er it close,
When in the dust, (where hope with life doth end,)
Together we repose.