The Man of Uz, and Other Poems. L. H. Sigourney

The Man of Uz, and Other Poems - L. H. Sigourney


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a friend?

      Still darkly hinting at some heinous sin

      Mysteriously concealed?

      Writes conscious guilt

      No transcript on the brow? Hangs it not out

      Its signal there, altho' it seem to hide

      'Neath an impervious shroud?

      Look thro' the depths

      Of my unshrinking eye, deep, deep within.

      What see ye there? what gives suspicion birth?

      As longs the laborer for the setting sun,

      Watching the lengthening shadows that foretell

      The time of rest, yet day by day returns

      To the same task again, so I endure

      Wearisome nights and months of burdening woe.

      I would not alway live this loathed life

      Whose days are vanity. Soon shall I sleep

      Low in the dust, and when the morning comes

      And thro' its curtaining mists ye seek my face

      I shall not be."

      Earnest the Shuhite spake,

      "How long shall these thy words, like eddying winds

      Fall empty on the ear?

      Doth God pervert

      Justice and judgment? If thy way was pure,

      Thy supplication from an upright heart

      He would awake and make thy latter end

      More blest than thy beginning.

      For inquire

      Of ancient times, of History's honor'd scroll

      And of the grey-hair'd fathers, if our words

      Seem light, we who were born but yesterday.

      Ask them and they shall teach thee, as the rush,

      Or as the flag forsaken of the pod,

      So shall the glory of the hypocrite

      Fade in its greenness.

      Tho' his house may seem

      Awhile to flourish, it shall not endure.

      Even tho' he grasp it with despairing strength

      It shall deceive his trust and pass away,

      As fleets the spider's filmy web. Behold

      God will not cast away the perfect man

      Nor help the evil doer."

      In low tones,

      Sepulchral, and with pain, the sufferer spake,

      "I know that this is truth, but how can man

      Be just with God? How shall he dare contend

      With Him who stretches out the sky and treads

      Upon the mountain billows of the sea,

      And sealeth up the stars?

      Array'd in strength,

      He passeth by me, but I see Him not.

      I hear His chariot-wheels, yet fear to ask

      Where goest Thou?

      If I, indeed, were pure,

      And perfect, like the model ye see fit

      To press upon me with your sharpest words,

      I would not in mine arrogance arise

      And reason with Him, but all humbly make

      Petition to my Judge.

      If there were one

      To shield me from His terrors, and to stand

      As mediator, I might dare to ask

      Why didst Thou give this unrequested boon

      Of life, to me, unhappy? My few days

      Are swifter than a post. As the white sail

      Fades in the mist, as the strong eagle's wing

      Leaves no receding trace, they flee away,

      They see no good.

      Hath not Thy mighty hand

      Fashion'd and made this curious form of clay,

      Fenc'd round with bones and sinews, and inspired

      By a mysterious soul? Oh be not stern

      Against Thy creature, as the Lion marks

      His destin'd prey.

      Relent and let me take

      Comfort a little, ere I go the way

      Whence I return no more, to that far land

      Of darkness and the dreary shades of death."

      Scarce had he ceas'd ere Zophar's turbid thoughts

      Made speed to answer.

      "Shall a tide of talk

      Wash out transgression? If thou choose to set

      The truth at nought, must others hold their peace?

      Hast thou not boasted that thy deeds and thoughts

      Were perfect in the almighty Maker's sight?

      Canst thou by searching find out God? Behold

      Higher than heaven it is, what canst thou do?

      Deeper than deepest hell, what canst thou know?

      Why wilt thou ignorantly deem thyself

      Unblamed before Him?

      Oh that He would speak,

      And put to shame thine arrogance.

      His glance Discerns all wickedness, all vain pretence

      To sanctity and wisdom. Were thine heart

      Rightly prepared, and evil put away

      From that and from thy house, then shouldst thou lift

      Thy spotless face, clear as the noon-day sun

      Stedfast and fearless. Yea, thou shouldst forget

      Thy misery, as waters that have past

      Away forever.

      Thou shouldst be secure

      And dig about thee and take root, and rest,

      While those who scorn thee now, with soul abased,

      Should make their suit unto thee.

      But the eyes

      Of wicked men shall fail, and as the groan

      Of him who giveth up the ghost, shall be

      Their frustrate hope."

      Dejectedly, as one

      Who wearied in a race, despairs to reach

      The destined goal, nor yet consents to leave

      His compeers masters of an unwon field.

      Job said—

      "No doubt ye think to have attained

      Monopoly of knowledge, and with you

      Wisdom shall die. This modesty of creed

      Befits ye well. Yet what have ye alledg'd

      Unheard before? what great discoveries made?

      Who knoweth not such things as ye have told?

      Despised


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