Job's curse

Let the night perish; cursed be the morn

Wherein 'twas said: there is a man-child born!

Let not the Lord regard that day, but shroud

Its fatal glory in some sullen cloud.

May the dark shades of an eternal night

Exclude the least kind beam of dawning light;

Let unborn babes, as in the womb they lie,

If it be mentioned, give a groan, and die.

No sounds of joy therein shall charm the ear,

No sun, no moon, no twilight stars appear

But a thick veil of gloomy darkness wear.

Why did I not, when first my mother's womb

Discharg'd me thence, drop down into my tomb?

Then had I been as quiet, and mine eyes

Had slept, and seen no sorrow; there the wise

And subtle counsellor, the potentate,

Who for themselves built palaces of state,

Lie hush'd in silence; there's no midnight cry

Caus'd by oppression and the tyranny

Of wicked rulers; there the weary cease

From labour, there the pris'ner sleeps in peace;

The rich, the poor, the monarch and the slave

Rest undisturb'd and no distinction have

Within the silent chambers of the grave.