Friday, January 30, 2015

Job 6

Satan Smiting Job with Boils

Satan had murdered Job's children, expecting Job to lose his faith, but Job remained steadfast.
But when Blake did this work he was thinking of something other than Job's faith. In Plate 21 of Jerusalem he wrote:

"O Vala! O Jerusalem! do you delight in my groans
You O lovely forms, you have prepared my death-cup:
The disease of Shame covers me from bead to feet: I have no hope
Every boil upon my body is a separate & deadly Sin.
Doubt first assaild me, then Shame took possession of me
Shame divides Families. Shame hath divided Albion in sunder!
First fled my Sons, & then my Daughters, then my Wild Animations
My Cattle next, last ev'n the Dog of my Gate. the Forests fled
The Corn-fields, & the breathing Gardens outside separated
The Sea; the Stars: the Sun: the Moon: drivn forth by my disease
All is Eternal Death unless you can weave a chaste
Body over an unchaste Mind! Vala! O that thou wert pure!"

Job 6:4:
For the arrows of the Almighty are within me; the poison thereof drinketh up my spirit; the terrors of God set themselves in array against me.

*************************************************************************

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
Satan smiting Job with boils
Satan had attacked Job intending to take his faith. but Blake felt that what he got was a loss of his shame.
Satan here appears as a good looking youth. His posture is triumphant; in his right hand is a group of four arrows and in his left hand is the vial of poison that he cast to the falling Job.

 on Job 16:

11 God hath delivered me to the ungodly, and turned me over into the hands of the wicked.

12 “I was at ease, but he hath broken me asunder; he hath also taken me by my neck and shaken me to pieces, and set me up for his mark.

13 His archers compass me round about; he cleaveth my reins asunder and doth not spare; he poureth out my gall upon the ground.

14 He breaketh me with breach upon breach; he runneth upon me like a giant.

15 “I have sewn sackcloth upon my skin, and defiled my horn in the dust.

16 My face is foul with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death,

17 not for any injustice in mine hands; also my prayer is pure.

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