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Sarah Hustler Fox · Modernismo

A Metrical Version of the Book of Job — Chapter 18

inglés

Again the Shuite Bildad answerèd,
And thus with menace and invective, said:

An end of words when will ye make?
How long ere ye will silent be?
Wait now, that ye may hear us speak,
And mark our words attentively.

Shall we be counted brutes by thee,
Who dost thyself in fury tear?
To such as thou art, shall it be,
That we despised and vile appear?

For thee shall earth be all forsaken,
And from its place the rock uptorn?
—Yea, from the wicked shall be taken
His spark of fire, no more to burn:

For ever quenched shall be his light;—
His lamp, put out, shall shine no more;
No flame for him shall kindle bright,—
Nor ought his dwelling's light restore.

The footsteps of his strength, confin'd
And strait'ned, shall no freedom know;—
The counsel by himself design'd
For others' ill, shall lay him low.

The net by his own feet is found;
On snares and gins his footsteps tread;
Pit-falls are hidden in the ground,
And traps unseen to seize him laid;

Flight and escape in vain he tries;—
With feet entangled in the way,
Whilst terrors all around him rise,
He falls, the robber's easy prey.

His strength by hunger's bite destroy'd,
Death's first-born shall his skin devour;
And Ruin ready at his side,
Shall feed upon his failing power.

Before the King of terrors driven—
His house no longer his defence—
His dwelling to destruction given—
Uprooted thence his confidence—

That house no more his claim shall know;
Brimstone shall on its roof be spread;—
Dried up shall be his roots below—
His branch above, cut off and dead.

Nor street nor place his name shall cherish;
From light of life to darkness given,—
His memory from the earth shall perish,
And from the world shall he be driven.

To him no son the knee shall bow,—
His dwellings nought of his shall see,—
His name shall cease on earth below,—
Nor kinsman with his people be.

And they who did his day behold,
And they who of its fame shall hear,
Shall listen, or the tale unfold,
With like astonishment and fear.

So shall the wicked perish all,—
Such is the path by sinners trod,—
So surely shall the dwelling fall
Of him who knoweth not his God.

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Sarah Hustler Fox · 19 piezas más en la casa
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La Biblioteca

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Autor
Sarah Hustler Fox
Título
A Metrical Version of the Book of Job — Chapter 18
Lengua
inglés
Época
Modernismo
Sala
La Biblioteca
Identificador
ws-en-a-metrical-version-of-the-book-of-job-chapter-18--sarah-hustler-fox-3e4d78
Cita recomendada
Sarah Hustler Fox, «A Metrical Version of the Book of Job — Chapter 18», Poetósfera, poetosfera.com/p/ws-en-a-metrical-version-of-the-book-of-job-chapter-18--sarah-hustler-fox-3e4d78.html

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