Divine poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

He burnes their standing corne; makes void
Their Land: The Philistines enquire
The cause of all their evill; destroy'd
The Timnite, and his house with fire.

As ragefull Samsons threatning language ceast,
His resolution of revenge increast;
Vengeance was in his thoughts, and his desire
Wanted no fuell to maintaine her fire:
Passion grew hot and furious, whose delay
Of execution, was but taking day
For greater payment: His revengefull heart
Boild in his brest; whilst Fury did impart
Her readie counsels, whose imperious breath,
Could whisper nothing, under bloud, and death:
Revenge was studious, quickned his conceit,
And screw'd her Engins to the very height:
At length, when time had rip'ned his desires,
And puffing rage had blowne his secret fires
To open flame, now ready for confusion,
He thus began t'attempt his first conclusion;

The patient Angler, first provides his baite,
Before his hopes can teach him to awaite
Th'enjoyment of his long expected prey;
Revengefull Samson, ere he can appay
His wrongs with timely vengeance, must intend
To gaine the Instruments, to worke his end;
He plants his Engines, hides his snares about,
Pitches his Toiles, findes new devices out,

337

To tangle wilie Foxes; In few dayes,
(That land had store) his studious hand betrayes
A leash of hundreds, which he thus imploye
As Agents in his rashfull enterprize;
With tough, and force-enduring thongs of Leth,
He joynes and couples taile, and taile together,
And every thong bound in a Brand of fire,
So made by Art, that motion would inspire
Continuall flames, and as the motion ceast,
The thriftie blaze would then retire and rest
In the close brand, untill a second strife
Gave it new motion; and that motion, life:
Soone as these coupled Messengers receiv'd
Their fiercy Errand, though they were bereiv'd
Of power to make great hast, they made good speed;
Their thoughts were diffring, though their tailes agreed:
T'one drags and draws to th'East; the other, West;
One fit, they runne, another while they rest;
T'one skulks and snarles, the t'other tugges and hales;
At length, both flee, with fire in their tailes,
And in the top and height of all their speed,
T'one stops before the other bee agreed;
The other pulls, and dragges his fellow backe,
Whilst both their tailes were tortur'd on the racke;
At last both weary of their warme Embassage,
Their better ease discride a fairer passage,
And time hath taught their wiser thoughts to joyne
More close, and travell in a straiter line:
Into the open Champion they divide
Their straggling paces (where the ploughmans pride
Found a faire object, in his rip'ned Corne;
Whereof, some part was reapt; some, stood unshorne)
Sometimes the fiery travellers would seeke
Protection beneath a swelling Reeke;

338

But soone that harbour grew too hot for stay,
Affording onely light, to runne away;
Sometimes, the full-ear'd standing wheat must cover
And hide their flames; and there the flames would hover
About their cares, and send them to enquire
A cooler place; but there the flaming fire
Would scorch their hides; & send thē sindg'd away;
Thus doubtfull where to goe, or where to stay,
They range about; flee forward, then retire;
Now here, now there, wher ere they come, they fire:
Nothing was left, that was not lost, and burn'd;
And now, that fruitfull land of Iewry's turn'd
A heape of Ashes; That faire land, while ere
Which fild all hearts with joy, and every eare
With newes of plenty, and of blest encrease,
(The ioyfull issue of a happy peace)
See, how it lies in her owne ruines, void
Of all her happinesse, disguis'd, destroyd:
With that the Philistines, whose sad reliefe
And comfort's deeply buried in their griefe,
Began to question (they did all partake
In th'irrecoverable losse) and spake,

What cursed brand of Hell? What more than Devill,
What envious Miscreant hath done this evill?
Whereto one sadly standing by, replide;

It was that cursed Samson (Whose faire Bride
Was lately ravisht from his absent brest
By her false father) who before the feast
Of nuptiall was a month expir'd, and done,
By second marriage, own'd another Sonne;
For which this Samson heav'd from off the henge
Of his lost reason, studied this revenge;
That Timnits falshood wrought this desolation;
Samson the Actor was, but he, th'occasion:

339

With that they all consulted to proceed
In height of Iustice, to revenge this deed;
Samson whose hand was the immediat cause
Of this foule act, is stronger than their lawes;
Him, they referre to time; For his proud hand
May bring a second ruine to their land;
The cursed Timnite, he that did divide
The lawfull Bridgroome from his lawfull Bride,
And mov'd the patience of so strong a foe,
To bring these evils, and worke their overthrow,
To him they haste; and with resolv'd desire
Of bloud, they burne his house, & him with fire.

Meditat. 15.

Dost thou not tremble? does thy troubled eare
Not tingle? nor thy spirits faint to heare
The voice of those, whose dying shriekes proclaime
Their tortures, that are broyling in the flame?
She, whose illustrious beautie did not know
Where to be matcht, but one poore houre agoe;
She, whose faire eyes were apt to make man erre
From his knowne faith, and turne Idolater;
She, whose faire cheeks, inricht with true complexion,
Seem'd Beauties store-house of her best perfection;
See how she lies, see how this beautie lies,
A foule offence, unto thy loathing eyes;
A fleshly Cinder, lying on the floore
Starke naked, had it not beene covered ore
With bashfull ruines, which were fallen downe
From the consumed roofe, and rudely throwne
On this halfe roasted earth. O; canst thou reade
Her double storie, and thy heart not bleed?

340

What art thou more than she? Tell me wherein
Art thou more priviledg'd? Or can thy sinne
Plead more t'excuse it? Art thou faire and young?
Why so was she: Were thy temptations strong?
Why so were hers: What canst thou plead, but she
Had power to plead the same, as well as thee?
Nor was't her death alone, could satisfie
Revenge; her father, and his house must die:
Vnpunisht crimes doe often bring them in,
That were no lesse than strangers to the sinne:
Ely must die; because his faire reproofe
Of too foule sinne, was not austere enough:
Was vengeance now appeas'd? Hath not the crime
Paid a sufficient Intrest for the time?
Remove thine eye to the Philistian fields
See what increase their fruitfull harvest yeelds:
There's nothing there, but a confused heape
Of ruinous Ashes: There's no corne to reape:
Behold the poyson of unpunisht sinne:
For which the very earth's accurst againe:
Famine must act her part; her griping hand,
For one mans sinne must punish all the land:
Is vengeance now appeas'd? Hath sinne given ore
To cry for plagues? Must vengeance yet have more?
O, now th'impartiall sword must come; and spill
The bloud of such, as famine could not kill:
The language of unpunisht sinne cryes loud,
It roares for Iustice, and it must have bloud:
Famine must follow, where the fire begun;
The sword must end, what both have left undone.

Iust God! our sinnes doe dare thee to thy face;
Our score is great, our Ephah fills apace;
The leaden cover threatens every minut,
To close the Ephah, and our sinnes within it.

341

Turne backe thine eye: Let not thine eye behold
Such vile pollutions: Let thy vengeance hold:
Looke on thy dying Sonne, there shalt thou spie
An object, that's more fitter for thine eye;
His sufferings (Lord) are farre above our finnes:
O, looke thou there; Ere Iustice once begins
T'unsheath her sword: O let one precious drop
Fall from that pierced side, and that will stop
The eares of vengeance, from that clamorous voice
Of our loud sinnes, which make so great a noise:
O, send that drop, before Revenge begins,
And that will crie farre louder than our sinnes.