Divine poems Containing The History of Ionah. Ester. Iob. Sampson. Sions Sonets. Elegies. Written and newly augmented, by Fra: Quarles |
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 | Divine poems |  |
Sect. 19.
The Argvment.
He lodgeth with a Harlot: WaitIs laid, and guardes are pitcht about;
He beeres away the City gate
Vpon his shoulders, and goes out.
Thus when victorious Samson had unliv'd
This hoast of armed men; and had reviv'd
His fainting spirits, and refresht his tongue
With those sweet christal streames, that lately sprūg
From his neglected weapon, he arose
(Secured from the tyrannie of his Foes
By his Heaven-borrowed strength) & boldly came
To a Philistian City, knowne by th'name
Of Azza; where, as he was passing by,
The carelesse Champion cast his wandring eye
Vpon a face, whose beauty did invite
His wanton heart to wonder and delight:
Her curious haire was crisp'd: Her naked brest
Was white as Ivory, and fairely drest
With costly Iewells: In her glorious face,
Nature was hidden, and dissembled grace
Damaskt her rosie cheekes: Her eyes did sparke,
At every glance, like Diamonds in the darke;
Bold was her brow; whose frowne was but a foile
To glorifie her better-pleasing smile;
Her pace was carelesse, seeming to discover
The passions of a discontented Lover:
Sometime, her opned Casement gives her eye
A twinckling passage to the passer by;
And, when her fickle fancy had given ore
That place, she comes, and wantons at the doore;
There Samson view'd her, and his steps could finde
No further ground; but (guided by his minde)
Cast Anchor there: Have thy observing eyes
Ere mark'd the Spiders garbe, How close she lies
Within her curious webbe; And by and by,
How quicke she hastes to her intangled Flie;
And whispring poyson in her murmuring eares,
At last, she tugges her silent guest, and beares
His Hampred body to the inner roome
Of her obscure and solitary Home;
Even so this snaring beauty entertaines
Our eye-led Samson, tampred with the chaines
Of her imperious eyes; and he, that no man
Could conquer; now lies conquered by a woman:
Faire was his welcome, and as fairely exprest
By her delicious language, which profest
No lesse affection than so sweet a friend,
Could, with her best expressions, recommend:
Into her glorious chamber she directs
Her welcome guest, and with her faire respects
She entertaines him; with a bountious kisse,
She gives him earnest of a greater blisse;
And with a brazen countenance, she brake
The way to her unchaste desires, and spake;
This hoast of armed men; and had reviv'd
His fainting spirits, and refresht his tongue
With those sweet christal streames, that lately sprūg
From his neglected weapon, he arose
(Secured from the tyrannie of his Foes
357
To a Philistian City, knowne by th'name
Of Azza; where, as he was passing by,
The carelesse Champion cast his wandring eye
Vpon a face, whose beauty did invite
His wanton heart to wonder and delight:
Her curious haire was crisp'd: Her naked brest
Was white as Ivory, and fairely drest
With costly Iewells: In her glorious face,
Nature was hidden, and dissembled grace
Damaskt her rosie cheekes: Her eyes did sparke,
At every glance, like Diamonds in the darke;
Bold was her brow; whose frowne was but a foile
To glorifie her better-pleasing smile;
Her pace was carelesse, seeming to discover
The passions of a discontented Lover:
Sometime, her opned Casement gives her eye
A twinckling passage to the passer by;
And, when her fickle fancy had given ore
That place, she comes, and wantons at the doore;
There Samson view'd her, and his steps could finde
No further ground; but (guided by his minde)
Cast Anchor there: Have thy observing eyes
Ere mark'd the Spiders garbe, How close she lies
Within her curious webbe; And by and by,
How quicke she hastes to her intangled Flie;
And whispring poyson in her murmuring eares,
At last, she tugges her silent guest, and beares
His Hampred body to the inner roome
Of her obscure and solitary Home;
Even so this snaring beauty entertaines
Our eye-led Samson, tampred with the chaines
Of her imperious eyes; and he, that no man
Could conquer; now lies conquered by a woman:
358
By her delicious language, which profest
No lesse affection than so sweet a friend,
Could, with her best expressions, recommend:
Into her glorious chamber she directs
Her welcome guest, and with her faire respects
She entertaines him; with a bountious kisse,
She gives him earnest of a greater blisse;
And with a brazen countenance, she brake
The way to her unchaste desires, and spake;
Mirrour of mankinde, thou selected flowre
Of loves faire knot, welcome to Flora's bowre;
Cheare up my Love; and looke vpon these eyes,
Wherein my beauty, and thy picture lyes;
Come take me prisner, in thy folded armes;
And boldly strike up sprightly loves alarmes
Vpon these rubey lips, and let us trie
The sweets of love; Here's none but thee and I:
My beds are softest downe, and purest lawne
My sheets; my Vallents and my curtaines drawne
In gold and silkes of curious die: Behold,
My covrinsg are of Tap'stry, 'inricht with gold;
Come, come, and let us take our fill of pleasure;
My husbands absence lends me dainty leasure
To give thee welcome: Come, let's spend the night
In sweet enjoyment of unknowne delight.
Her words prevail'd: And being both undrest,
Together went to their defiled rest:
By this the newes of Samsons being there
Possest the City, and fill'd every eare:
His death is plotted; And advantage lends
New hopes of speed: An armed guard attends
At every gate, that when the breaking day
Shall send him forth, th'expecting forces may
Betray him to his sudden death; and so
Revenge their kingdomes ruines at a blow:
But lustfull Samson (whose distrustfull eares
Kept open house) was now possest with feares:
He heares a whisp'ring; and the trampling feet
Of people passing in the silent street;
He whom undaunted courage lately made
A glorious Conquerour, is now afraid;
His conscious heart is smitten with his sinne;
He cannot chuse but feare, and feare agin:
He feares; and now the terrible alarmes
Of sinne doe call him from th'unlawfull armes
And lips of his luxurious Concubine;
Bids him, arise from dalliance, and resigne
The usurpation of his luke-warme place
To some new sinner, whose lesse dangerous case
May lend more leisure to so soule a deed:
Samson, with greater and vnwonted speed
Leapes from his wanton bed; his feares doe presse
More haste to cloath; than lust did, to undresse:
He makes no tarryance; but with winged hast,
Bestrides the streets; and to the gates he past,
And through the armed troupes, he makes his way;
Beares gates, and barres, and pillers all away;
So scap'd the rage of the Philistian band,
That still must owe his ruine, to their land.
Of loves faire knot, welcome to Flora's bowre;
Cheare up my Love; and looke vpon these eyes,
Wherein my beauty, and thy picture lyes;
Come take me prisner, in thy folded armes;
And boldly strike up sprightly loves alarmes
Vpon these rubey lips, and let us trie
The sweets of love; Here's none but thee and I:
My beds are softest downe, and purest lawne
My sheets; my Vallents and my curtaines drawne
In gold and silkes of curious die: Behold,
My covrinsg are of Tap'stry, 'inricht with gold;
Come, come, and let us take our fill of pleasure;
My husbands absence lends me dainty leasure
To give thee welcome: Come, let's spend the night
In sweet enjoyment of unknowne delight.
Her words prevail'd: And being both undrest,
Together went to their defiled rest:
By this the newes of Samsons being there
Possest the City, and fill'd every eare:
His death is plotted; And advantage lends
New hopes of speed: An armed guard attends
At every gate, that when the breaking day
Shall send him forth, th'expecting forces may
359
Revenge their kingdomes ruines at a blow:
But lustfull Samson (whose distrustfull eares
Kept open house) was now possest with feares:
He heares a whisp'ring; and the trampling feet
Of people passing in the silent street;
He whom undaunted courage lately made
A glorious Conquerour, is now afraid;
His conscious heart is smitten with his sinne;
He cannot chuse but feare, and feare agin:
He feares; and now the terrible alarmes
Of sinne doe call him from th'unlawfull armes
And lips of his luxurious Concubine;
Bids him, arise from dalliance, and resigne
The usurpation of his luke-warme place
To some new sinner, whose lesse dangerous case
May lend more leisure to so soule a deed:
Samson, with greater and vnwonted speed
Leapes from his wanton bed; his feares doe presse
More haste to cloath; than lust did, to undresse:
He makes no tarryance; but with winged hast,
Bestrides the streets; and to the gates he past,
And through the armed troupes, he makes his way;
Beares gates, and barres, and pillers all away;
So scap'd the rage of the Philistian band,
That still must owe his ruine, to their land.
Medit. 19.
How weake, at strongest, is poore flesh & blood!
Samson, the greatnes of whose power withstood
A little world of armed men, with death,
Must now be foyled with a womans breath:
The mother, sometimes lets her infant fall,
To make it hold the surer by the wall:
God lets his servant often goe amisse,
That he may turne, and see how weake he is:
David that found an overflowing measure
Of heavens high favours, and as great a treasure
Of saving grace, and portion of the Spirit,
As flesh and bloud was able to inherit,
Must have a fall to exercise his feares,
And make him drowne his restics couch with tears:
Wise Salomon, within whose heart was planted
The fruitfull stockes of heavenly wisdome, wanted
Not that, whereby his weakenesse understood
The perfect vanity of flesh and bloud:
Whose hand seem'd prodigall of his Isaacs life,
He durst not trust Gods providence with his wife:
The righteous Lot had slidings: Holy Paul
He had his pricke; and Peter had his fall:
The sacred Bride, in whose faire face remaines
The greatest earthly beauty, hath her staines:
If man were perfect, land entirely good,
He were not man: he were not flesh and blood:
Or should he never fall, he would at length,
Not see his weakenesse, and presume in strength:
Ere children know the sharpnesse of the Edge,
They thinke, their fingers have a priveledge
Against a wound; but having felt the knife,
A bleeding finger, sometime saves a life:
Samson, the greatnes of whose power withstood
A little world of armed men, with death,
Must now be foyled with a womans breath:
360
To make it hold the surer by the wall:
God lets his servant often goe amisse,
That he may turne, and see how weake he is:
David that found an overflowing measure
Of heavens high favours, and as great a treasure
Of saving grace, and portion of the Spirit,
As flesh and bloud was able to inherit,
Must have a fall to exercise his feares,
And make him drowne his restics couch with tears:
Wise Salomon, within whose heart was planted
The fruitfull stockes of heavenly wisdome, wanted
Not that, whereby his weakenesse understood
The perfect vanity of flesh and bloud:
Whose hand seem'd prodigall of his Isaacs life,
He durst not trust Gods providence with his wife:
The righteous Lot had slidings: Holy Paul
He had his pricke; and Peter had his fall:
The sacred Bride, in whose faire face remaines
The greatest earthly beauty, hath her staines:
If man were perfect, land entirely good,
He were not man: he were not flesh and blood:
Or should he never fall, he would at length,
Not see his weakenesse, and presume in strength:
Ere children know the sharpnesse of the Edge,
They thinke, their fingers have a priveledge
Against a wound; but having felt the knife,
A bleeding finger, sometime saves a life:
Lord, we are children, & our sharpe-edg'd knives,
Together with our bloud, lets out our lives;
Alas, if we but draw them from the sheath,
They cut our fingers, and they bleed to death.
Together with our bloud, lets out our lives;
Alas, if we but draw them from the sheath,
They cut our fingers, and they bleed to death.
Thou great Chirurgion of a bleeding soule,
Whose soveraigne baulme, is able to make whole
The deepest wound, Thy sacred salve is sure;
We cannot bleed so fast, as thou canst cure:
Heale thou our wounds, that, having salv'd the sore
Our hearts may feare, and learne to sinne no more;
And let our hands be strangers to those knives,
That wound not fingers onely, but our lives.
Whose soveraigne baulme, is able to make whole
361
We cannot bleed so fast, as thou canst cure:
Heale thou our wounds, that, having salv'd the sore
Our hearts may feare, and learne to sinne no more;
And let our hands be strangers to those knives,
That wound not fingers onely, but our lives.
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