History of Literature




William Blake

The Book of Job





 

 





 

 

Did I not weep for him who was in trouble?
Was not my Soul afflicted for the Poor

Behold he is in thy hand: but save his Life

Then went Satan forth from the presence of
the Lord

And it grieved him at his heart

Who maketh his Angels Spirits
& his Ministers a Flaming Fire

 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 

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Naked came I out of my
mothers womb & Naked shall

I return thither

The Lord gave & the Lord hath

taken away, Blessed be the
Name of the Lord.

...and smote Job with sore Boils
from the sole of his foot to the crown of
his head

 





 

 
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What! shall we recieve Good
at the hand of God & shall we not
also recieve Evil

And when they lifted up their eyes afar off
& knew him not they lifted up their voice
& wept, & they rent every Man his
mantle & sprinkled dust upon their
heads towards heaven

Ye have heard of the Patience of Job
and have seen the end of the Lord.

 




 

 
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Lo let that night be solitary
and let no joyful voice come therein

Let the Day perish wherein I was Born

And they sat down with him upon the
ground seven days & seven
nights & none spake a word unto him

for they saw that his grief
was very great