A godly ballad of the just man Job. Wherein his great patience he doth declare, his plagues and miseries, and yet did not despair. The tune is, The merchant. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B03601 of text xxx in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing G933I). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 4 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B03601 Wing G933I Interim Tract Supplement Guide EBB65H[76] 99887101 ocm99887101 181826 2264218618

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B03601) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 181826) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A2:3[76]) A godly ballad of the just man Job. Wherein his great patience he doth declare, his plagues and miseries, and yet did not despair. The tune is, The merchant. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts). Printed for F[rancis]. Coles, T[homas]. Vere, I[ohn]. Wright, J[ohn].Clarke, W[illiam]. Thackeray, and T[homas]. Passenger., [London] : [between 1678-1681] Verse: "Walking all alone ..." Place, date of publication, and publisher's names from Wing CD-ROM, 1996. Wing CD-ROM, 1996 gives range of dates, 1678-1681. Printed on the same sheet as: The doleful dance, and song of death. Reproduction of original in the Harvard University, Houghton Library. eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. eebo A godly ballad of the just man Job. Wherein his great patience he doth declare, his plagues and miseries, and yet did not despair. The tune is, The me anon 1681 1 520 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2008-09 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-11 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2009-01 Sampled and proofread 2009-01 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
A Godly Ballad of the Just Man Job . Wherein his great patience he doth declare , His plagues and his miseries , and yet did not despair . The Tune is , The Merchant . WAlking all alone , No not long agone , I heard one wail and weep ; alas he said , I am laid In sorrow strong and deep , To hear him cry , I did reply , and privily abode , there did I find , in secret mind . the just and patient Job . His woful 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 my self out-wares . This mortal life , Is but a strife , a battel great and strong , my years also , to wast 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 abhor'd , O that I might , once stand in sight , to reason with the Lord . I should then know , Why he doth show this extream cruelty , upon his flesh , which is but grass , and born is for to dye . From top to toe , I feel with woe , that sorrow is my meat , put to exile , with Botch and Boyl , and dung-hill is my seat . My Kinsfolk talk And by me walk , wondring at my fall , they count my state , unfortunate , and so forsake me all . My children five , Which were alive , they all be quite destroy'd , the Plague fell on my Cattel , with all that I enjoy'd . 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 staid , his end for to behold , I there did see , his felicity , increasing manifold . I know well then , How patient men , should not suffer in vain , but shall be sure , to have pleasure , rewarded for their pain . FINIS .

Printed for F. Coles , T. Vere , I. Wright , J. Clarke , W. Thackeray , and T. Passenger .