"Black throngs of Woes invade my frighted Soul, / As crowding Billows on each other roll."
— Blackmore, Sir Richard (1654-1729)
Place of Publication
London
Publisher
Printed from Awnsham and John Churchill
Date
1700
Metaphor
"Black throngs of Woes invade my frighted Soul, / As crowding Billows on each other roll."
Metaphor in Context
God, as a fierce, relentless Foe appears,
And in his Fury me in pieces tears.
He grinds his raging Teeth, and from his Eyes
A Flame against me keen, as Light'ning flies.
My Friends elated with prodigious Pride,
Stand gaping on me, and my Grief deride.
From distant parts they come, not to asswage
My Anguish, but my Suff'rings to enrage.
God has expos'd me likewise to the Bands
Of fierce invaders from the neighb'ring Lands,
And giv'n me up a Prey to impious hands.
My Dwelling flourish'd, and I liv'd at ease,
With Plenty blest, and the soft Joys of Peace;
When God denounc'd his unexpected War,
And with his Darts did me asunder tare.
Me in his griping Arms th' Almighty took,
And with such mighty force my body shook,
That all my Members were in pieces broke.
He sets me as a mark on rising ground,
And his fierce Archers compass me around.
In Showers of singing Death their Arrows fly,
And in my tortur'd Entrails buried ly.
My Gall, so deep, so mortal is the Wound,
As well as Blood, flows out and stains the Ground.
Black throngs of Woes invade my frighted Soul,
As crowding Billows on each other roll.
Th' Almighty runs upon me in his rage,
As a fierce Gyant eager to engage.
Sackcloth I wear, of Ornaments despoil'd,
And in the Dust my Glory lies defil'd.
My Cheeks with Everlasting Weeping fade,
And on my Eye-lids hangs a dismal shade.
And in his Fury me in pieces tears.
He grinds his raging Teeth, and from his Eyes
A Flame against me keen, as Light'ning flies.
My Friends elated with prodigious Pride,
Stand gaping on me, and my Grief deride.
From distant parts they come, not to asswage
My Anguish, but my Suff'rings to enrage.
God has expos'd me likewise to the Bands
Of fierce invaders from the neighb'ring Lands,
And giv'n me up a Prey to impious hands.
My Dwelling flourish'd, and I liv'd at ease,
With Plenty blest, and the soft Joys of Peace;
When God denounc'd his unexpected War,
And with his Darts did me asunder tare.
Me in his griping Arms th' Almighty took,
And with such mighty force my body shook,
That all my Members were in pieces broke.
He sets me as a mark on rising ground,
And his fierce Archers compass me around.
In Showers of singing Death their Arrows fly,
And in my tortur'd Entrails buried ly.
My Gall, so deep, so mortal is the Wound,
As well as Blood, flows out and stains the Ground.
Black throngs of Woes invade my frighted Soul,
As crowding Billows on each other roll.
Th' Almighty runs upon me in his rage,
As a fierce Gyant eager to engage.
Sackcloth I wear, of Ornaments despoil'd,
And in the Dust my Glory lies defil'd.
My Cheeks with Everlasting Weeping fade,
And on my Eye-lids hangs a dismal shade.
Categories
Provenance
Searching in HDIS (Poetry)
Citation
2 entries in ESTC (1700, 1716).
A Paraphrase on the Book of Job: As Likewise on the Songs of Moses, Deborah, David: on Four Select Psalms: Some Chapters of Isaiah, and the Third Chapter of Habakkuk. By Sir Richard Blackmore (London: Printed from Awnsham and John Churchill, 1700).
A Paraphrase on the Book of Job: As Likewise on the Songs of Moses, Deborah, David: on Four Select Psalms: Some Chapters of Isaiah, and the Third Chapter of Habakkuk. By Sir Richard Blackmore (London: Printed from Awnsham and John Churchill, 1700).
Date of Entry
05/31/2005
Date of Review
01/20/2009
