Divine poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now when th'amazed woman had commended
Her tongue to silence, and her tale was ended;
Perplexed Manoah, ravisht at the newes,
Within himselfe, he thus began to muse;
Strange is the message! And as strangely done!
Shall Manoah's loynes be fruitfull? Shall a Sonne
Blesse his last dayes? Or shall an Issue come
From the chill closet of a barren wombe?
Shall Manoah's wife give suck? and now, at last
Finde pleasure, when her prime of youth is past?
Shall her cold wombe be now, in age, restor'd?
And was't a man of God, that brought the word?
Or was't some false delusion, that possest
The weaknesse of a lonely womans brest?
Or was't an Angel, sent from heaven, to show
What Heaven hath will, as well as pow'r, to doe.
Till then thou must refraine to drinke, or eate,
Wines, and strong drink, and Law-forbidden meate?
Evill Angls rather would instruct to riot,
They use not to prescribe so strict a Dyet;
No, no, I make no further question of it,
'Twas some good Angel, or some holy Prophet.

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Thus, having mus'd a while, he bow'd his face
Vpon the ground; and (prostrate in the place,
Where first he heard the welcome tydings) pray'd,
(His wonder now transform'd to zeale) and said:

Great God; that hast ingag'd thy selfe, by vow,
When e're thy little Israel begs, to bow
Thy gracious eare; O harken to the least
Of Israel's sonnes, and grant me my request:
By thee: J live, and breathe: Thou did'st become
My gracious God, both in, and from the wombe;
Thy precious favours I have still possest,
And have depended on thee, from the Brest:
My simple Infancy hath bin protected
By thee, my Child-hood taught, my youth corrected,
And sweetly chastned with thy gentle Rod;
J was no sooner, but thou wert my God:
All times declare thee good; this very houre
Can testifie the greatnesse of thy power,
And promptnesse of thy Mercy, which hast sent
This blessed Angel to us, to augment
The Catalogue of thy favours, and restore
Thy servants wombe, whose hopes had even given ore
T'expect an Issue: What thou hast begun,
Prosper, and perfect, till the worke be done:
Let not my Lord be angry, if I crave
Aboone, too great for me to beg, or have:
Let that blest Angel, that thou sent'st, of late,
Reblesse us with his presence, and relate
Thy will at large, and what must then be done,
When time shal bring to light this promis'd sonne.

About that time, when the declining Lampe
Trebles each shadow; when the evening dampe
Begins to moisten, and refresh the land,
The Wife of Manoah (under whose command

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The weaned Lambes did feed) being lowly seated
Vpon a Shrubbe (where often she repeated
That pleasing newes, the subject of her thought)
Appear'd the Angell: he, that lately brought
Those blessed tidings to her: up she rose;
Her second feare had warrant to dispose
Her nimble foot-steps to unwonted haste;
She runnes with speed, (she cannot runne too fast)
At length, she findes her husband; In her eyes,
Were Ioy and Feare; whilst her lost breath denies
Her speech to him, her trembling hands make signs;
She puffes and pants; her breathlesse tongue disjoynes
Her broken words: Behold, behold, (said she)
The man of God, (if man of God he be)
Appear'd againe: These very eyes beheld
The man of God: I left him in our field.