�ov de k� anhnhtai, kai te sterewv apoeiph, lissontai d� ara taige dia kroniwna kiousai, tw athn am� epesqai, ina blafqeiv apotish.

all�, acileu, pore kai su diov kourhsin epesqai timhn, ht� allwn per epignamptei frenav esqlwn. Iliad., ix. 498-510.

Prayers are Jove's daughters; wrinkled, lame, slant-eyed, Which, though far distant, yet with constant pace Follow offense. Offence, robust of limb, And treading firm the ground, outstrips them all, And over all the earth, before them runs Hurtful to man: they, following, heal the hurt.

Received respectfully when they approach, They yield us aid, and listen when we pray.

But if we slight, and with obdurate heart Resist them, to Saturnian Jove they cry.

Against, us supplicating, that offense May cleave to us for vengeance of the wrong.

Thou, therefore, O Achilles! honour yield To Jove's own daughters, vanquished as the brave Have ofttimes been, by honour paid to thee. COWPER.

On this allegory the translator makes the following remarks: "Wrinkled, because the countenance of a man, driven to prayer by a consciousness of guilt, is sorrowful and dejected. Lame, because it is a remedy to which men recur late, and with reluctance. Slant-eyed, either because in that state of humiliation they fear to lift up their eyes to heaven, or are employed in taking a retrospect of their past misconduct. The whole allegory, considering when and where it was composed, forms a very striking passage." Prayer to God for mercy must have the qualifications marked above.

Prayer comes from God. He desires to save us: this desire is impressed on our hearts by his Spirit, and reflected back to himself. Thus says the allegory, "Prayers are the daughters of Jupiter." But they are lame, as reflected light is much less intense and vivid than light direct. The desire of the heart is afraid to go into the presence of God, because the man knows, feels, that he has sinned against goodness and mercy. They are wrinkled-dried up and withered, with incessant longing: even the tears that refresh the soul are dried up and exhausted. They are slant-eyed; look aside through shame and confusion; dare not look God in the face. But transgression is strong, bold, impudent, and destructive: it treads with a firm step over the earth, bringing down curses on mankind. Prayer and repentance follow, but generally at a distance. The heart, being hardened by the deceitfulness of sin does not speedily relent. They, however, follow: and when, with humility and contrition, they approach the throne of grace, they are respectfully received. God acknowledges them as his offspring, and heals the wounds made by transgression. If the heart remain obdurate, and the man will not humble himself before his God, then his transgression cleaves to him, and the heartless, lifeless prayers which he may offer in that state, presuming on God's mercy, will turn against him; and to such a one the sacrificial death and mediation of Christ are in vain.

And this will be the case especially with the person who, having received an offense from another, refuses to forgive. This latter circumstance is that to which the poet particularly refers. See the whole passage, with its context.

Matthew Henry Commentary

Original Hebrew