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





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






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.






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