Then let my harvest unto thistles turn,
And rootless weeds o'ertop the beardless grain."
Then ceased the Man of Uz, like one o'erspent,
Feeling the fallacy of argument
With auditors like these, his thoughts withdrew
Into the shroud of silence, and he spake
No more unto them, standing fix'd and mute,
Like statued marble.
Then, as none replied,