They met, and overwhelming her distrust 
With penitence, he praised away her fear; 
They married, and Job gave him half a year 
To wreck the temple, as we knew he must. 
He fumbled hungrily to readjust
A fallen altar, but the road was clear 
By which it was her will to disappear 
That evening when Job found him in the dust. 

Job would have deprecated such a way 
Of heaving fuel on a sacred fire,
Yet even the while we saw it going out, 
Hardly was Job to find his hour to shout; 
And Job was not, so far as we could say, 
The confirmation of her soul?s desire.