Divine poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

It cannot be excus'd: It was a fault,
It was a foule one too; and, at first sight,
Too greate for love, or pardon to acquite:
O, had it beene a stranger, that betraid
Reposed secrets, I had onely laid
The blame upon my unadvised tongue;
Or had a common friend but done this wrong
To bosome trust, my patience might out warne it;
I could endur'd, I could have easily borne it;
But thus to be betraied by a wife,
The partner of my heart; to whom my life,
My very soule was not esteemed deare,
Is more than flesh, is more than bloud can beare:
But yet alas, She was but greene and young,
And had not gain'd the conquest of her tongue;
Vnseason'd vessells, oft will finde a leake
At first; but after held: She is but weake;
Nay, cannot yet write woman; which, at best,
Is a fraile thing: Alas young things will quest
At every turne; Indeed, to say the truth,
Her yeares could make it but a fault of youth:
Samson, returne; and let that fault be set
Vpon the score of youth: forgive, forget:
She is my wife: Her love hath power to hide
A fouler errour; Why should I diuide
My presence from her? There's no greater wrong
To love, than to be silent ever long:
Alas, poore soule! No doubt, her tender eye
Hath wept enough; perchance she knowes not why
“ I'm turn'd so great a stranger to her bed,
And boord: No doubt, her empty eyes have shed
A world of teares; perchance, her guiltlesse thought
Conceives my absence as a greater fault

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Then that of late, her harmlesse errour did;
I'le goe and draw a reconciling Kid
From the faire flocke; My feet shall never rest,
Till J repose me in my Brides faire brest;
He went, but ere his speedy lips obtain'd
The merits of his haste, darknesse had stain'd
The cristall brow of day; and gloomy night
Had spoil'd and rifled heaven of all his light:
H' approacht the gates; but being entred in,
His carelesse welcome seem'd so cold and thin,
As if that silence meant, it should appeare,
He was no other, than a stranger there;
In every servants looke, he did espie
An easie Copie of their Masters eye;
He call'd his wife, but she was gone to rest;
Vnto her wonted chamber he addrest
His doubtfull steps; till by her father, staid,
Who taking him aside a little, said:
Sonne,

It was the late espousals that doe move
My tongue to use that title; not thy love:
'Tis true; there was a Marriage lately past
Betweene my childe and you; The knot was fast
And firmely tyed, not subject to the force
Of any power, but death, or else divorce:
For ought I saw, a mutuall desire
Kindled your likings, and an equall fire
Of strong affection, joyned both your hands
With the perpetuall knot of nuptiall bands;
Mutuall delight, and equall joyes attended
Your pleased hearts, untill the feast was ended;
But then I know no ground, (you know it best)
As if your loves were measur'd by the Feast,
The building fell, before the house did shake,

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Loves fire was quencht, ere it began to slake;
All on a sudden were your ioyes disseis'd;
Forsooke your Bride, and went away displeas'd;
You left my child to the opprobrious tongues
Of open censure, whose malitious wrongs
(Maligning her faire merits) did defame
Her wounded honour, and unblemisht name;
I thought, thy love, which was so strong, of late,
Had on a sudden, turn'd to perfect hate:
At length, when as your longer absence did
Confirme my thoughts; and time had quite forbid
Our hopes t'expect a reaccesse of love,
Thinking some new affection did remove
Your heart, and that some second choice might smother
The first, I matcht your Bride unto another;
If we have done amisse, the fault must be
Imputed yours, and not to her, nor me;
But if your easie losse may be redeem'd
With her faire Sister (who; you know's esteem'd
More beautifull than she, and younger too)
She shall be firmely joyn'd by nuptiall vow,
And, by a present contract, shall become
Thy faithfull spouse, in her lost sisters roome:
With that poore Samson, like a man entranc'd,
And newly wakened, thus his voice advanc'd;

Presumptuus Philistine! That dost proceed
From the base loines of that accursed seed,
Branded for slaughter, and mark'd out for death;
And utter ruine; this my threatning breath
Shall blast thy nation; This revenging hand
Shall crush thy carkasse, and thy cursed land;
I'le give thy flesh to Ravens; and ravinous Swine
Shall take that rancke and tainted bloud of thine
For wash and swill, to quench their eager thirst,

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Which they shall sucke, and guzzle till they burst;
I'le burne your standing Corne with flames of fire,
That none shall quench; I'le drag ye in the mire
Of your owne blouds, which shall ore-flow the land
And make your pasture barren as the sand;
This ruthlesse arme shall smite and never stay,
Vntill your land be turn'd a Golgotha;
And if my actions prove my words untrue,
Let Samson die, and be accurs'd, as you.