XXIV

He giveth rain unto the earth, And sendeth waters upon the fields; To set up on high those that be low, That they who mourn may be helped to victory.

XXV

He catcheth the wise in their own craftiness, And the counsel of the cunning is thwarted; Wherefore they encounter darkness in the daytime, And at noonday grope as in the night.

XXVI

The poor he delivereth from the sword of their mouth, And the needy out of the hand of the mighty; Thus the miserable man obtaineth hope, And iniquity stoppeth her mouth.

XXVII

Happy is the man whom G.o.d correcteth; Therefore spurn not thou the chastening of the Almighty: For he maketh sore and bindeth up; He smiteth, and his hands make whole.

XXVIII

He shall deliver thee in six troubles, Yea in seven there shall no evil touch thee:-- In famine he shall redeem thee from death, And in war from the power of the sword.

XXIX

Thou shall be hid from the scourge of the tongue,[202]

Neither shalt thou fear misfortune when it cometh; At destruction and famine thou shalt laugh, Nor shalt dread the beasts of the earth.

x.x.x

For thy tent shall abide in peace, And thou shalt visit thy dwelling and miss nought therein; Thou shalt likewise know that thy seed will be great, And thine offspring as the gra.s.s of the earth.

x.x.xI

Thou shalt go down to thy grave in the fulness of thy days, Ripe as a shock of corn brought home in its season.

Lo, this have we found out, so it is!

This we have heard, and take it thou to heart.

x.x.xII

JOB:

Oh that my "wrath" were thoroughly weighed, And my woe laid against it in the balances!

For it would prove heavier than the sands of the sea; Therefore are my words wild.

x.x.xIII

For the arrows of the Almighty are within me; My spirit drinketh in the venom thereof.

The terrors of G.o.d move against me, He useth me like to an enemy.

x.x.xIV

Doth the wild a.s.s bray when he hath gra.s.s?

Or loweth the ox over his fodder?

Would one eat things insipid without salt?

Is there taste in the white of raw eggs?

x.x.xV

Oh that I might have my request, And that G.o.d would grant me the thing I long for!

Even that it would please him to destroy me, That he would let go his hand and cut me off!

x.x.xVI

Then should I yet have comfort, Yea, I would exult in my relentless pain.

For that, at least, would be my due from G.o.d, Since I have never withstood the words of the Holy One.

x.x.xVII

What is my strength that I should hope?

And what mine end that I should be patient?

Is my strength the strength of stones?

Or is my flesh of bra.s.s?

x.x.xVIII

Am I not utterly bereft of help?

And is not rescue driven wholly away from me?

Is not pity the duty of the friend, Who, else, turneth away from the fear of G.o.d?

x.x.xIX

My brethren have disappointed me as a torrent, They pa.s.s away as a stream of brooks, Which were blackish by reason of the ice, Wherein the snow hideth itself.

XL

The caravans of Tema sought for them, The companies of Sheba hoped for them.

But when the sun warmed them they vanished; When it waxed hot they were consumed from their place.

XLI

Did I say: Bestow aught upon me?

Or give a bribe for me of your substance?

Or deliver me from the enemy's hand?

Or redeem me from the hand of the mighty?

XLII

Teach me and I will hold my tongue; And cause me to discern wherein I have erred.

How cutting are your "righteous" words!

But what doth your arguing reprove?