A Godly Ballad of the Just man JOB. Wherein his great patie●…●…ch declare▪ His Plagues, and his Miseries▪ and yet did not despair. The tune is, the Merchant.  

WAlking alone.  
Not long agone,  
I heard one wail and weep,  
Alas he said,  
I am now laid,  
in sorrow strong and deep.   

To hear him cry,  
I did apply,  
and privily abode,  
There did I find  
In secret mind.  
the just and Patient Job.   

His woeful pain  
Did me constrain,  
by force to wail and moan.  
God did him prove,  
How he did love,  
the living Lord alone.   

In heaviness  
He did express  
these words with bitter tears,  
Alas, poor man,  
Wretched I am'  
in care myself out-wearde.   

This mortal life  
Is but a strife,  
a battle great and strong,  
My years also  
Do waste and go,  
and not continue long,   

The day wherein  
I did begin  
to move and stir my breath,  
Would God I had  
An exchange made,  
and turned unto death.   

So should not I  
In misery  
be wrapped as I am,  
The time and day  
Well curse I may.  
when to this world I came.   

For my faults past,  
I am out-cast,  
and of all men abhorred,  
O that I might  
Once stand in sight,  
to reason with the Lord.   

I should then know  
Why he doth show  
this extreme cruelty.  
Upon this flesh,  
Which is but grass,  
and borne is for to die.   

From top to toe  
I feel with woe.  
that sorrow is my meat,  
Put to exile,  
With Botch and Bile.  
and dunghill is my seat.   

My kinsfolk talk,  
And by me walk,  
Wondering at my fall,  
They count my state  
Unfortunate,  
and so forsake me all.   

My Children five,  
Which were alive.  
they all be quite destroyed,  
The Plague fell  
On my cattle,  
with all that I enjoyed.   

Should I for them  
My God blaspheme,  
and his good gifts despise?  
That will I not,  
But take my lot.  
giving his Name the praise.   

They were not mine,  
But for a time,  
I know well it is so,  
God gave them me,  
Why should not he,  
Again take them me fro?   

Thus having said,  
Full still I stayed,  
his end for to behold,  
I there did see  
His felicity,  
increasing manifold.   

I knew well then,  
How patient men,  
should not suffer in vain,  
But shall be sure  
To have pleasure,  
rewarde● for their pain.    

London. Printed for F. Coles, J. Wright, Tho, Vere, and W. Gilbertson.