Divine poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

The faithlesse men of Iudah went
To make him subject to their bands:
They bound him by his owne consent,
And brought him prisoner to their hands.

So said: The men of Iudah (whose base feare
Taught them to open an obedient eare
To their revengefull and unjust request)
Accept the treacherous motion, and addrest
Their slavish thoughts, to put in execution
The subject of their seruile resolution:
With that, three thousand of their ablest men
Are soone employ'd; To the fierce Lyons den
They come, (yet daring not approach too neare)
And sent this louder language to his eare;

Victorious Samson, whose renowned facts
Have made the world a Register of thy acts;
Great Army of men, the wonder of whose power
Gives thee the title of a walking Tower,

347

Why hast thou' thus betraid us to the hand
Of the accurs'd Philistines? Thou know'st our Land
Does owe it selfe to thee; There's none can clame
So great an interest in our hearts: Thy name,
Thy highly honour'd name, for ever, beares
A welcome Accent in our joyfull eares;
But now the times are dangerous, and a band
Of proud Philistians quarter in our land;
And for thy sake, the tyranie of their tongues
Hath newly threatned to revenge the wrongs
Vpon our peacefull lives: Their lips have vow'd
And sworne to salve their injuries with our bloud;
Their jealous fury hollowes in our eares,
They'l plague our Land, as thou hast plagued theirs:
If we refuse to doe their fierce command,
And bring not Samson prisoner to their hand;
Alas, thou know'st our servile necks must bow
To their imperious. Yoke; Alas, our vow
Of loyalty is past: If they bid, doe;
We must; or lose our lands, and our lifes too,
Were but our lifes in hazard, or if none
Should feele the smart of death, but we alone,
Wee'd turne thy Martyrs, rather than obey'm,
Wee'd die with Samson sooner than betray'm;
But we have wifes, and children, that would be
The subjects of their rage, as well as wee:
Wherefore submit thy person, and fulfill
What we desire so much against our will:
Alas our griefes in equall poisure lye;
Teeld, and thou dyest: yeeld not, and we must die:
Where to sad Samson, whose faire thoughts did guide
His lips to fairer language, thus replide;
Te men of Iudah, what distrustfull thought
Of single Samsons violence hath brought

348

So great a strength, as if you meant t'orethrow
Some mighty Monarch, or surprise a Foe!
Your easie errand might as well bin done
By two or three, or by the lips of one;
The meanest child of holy Israels seede
Might conquer'd Samson with a bruised reede:
Alas, the boldnesse of your welcome words
Need no protection of these staves and swords:
Brethren, the intention of my comming hither
Was not to wrong you, or deprive you, either
Of lives, or goods, or of your poorest due;
My selfe is cheaper to my selfe, than you;
My comming is on a more faire designe,
I come to crush your tyranous foes, and mine,
I come to free your countrey, and recall
Your servile souldiers from the slavish thrall
Of the proud Philistines; and with this hand,
To make you freemen in your promis'd Land;
But you are come to binde me, and betray
Your faithfull Champion to those bands, that lay
Perpetuall burdens on, which dayly vex
Your galled shoulders, and your servile neckes:
The wrongs these cursed Philistines have done
My simple innocence, have quite outrunne
My easie patience: If my arme may right
My too much injur'd sufferance, and requite
What they have done to me, it would appease
My raging thoughts, and give my tortures ease;
But ye are come to binde me: I submit;
I yeeld; And if my bondage will acquit
Your new borne feares, 'Tis well: But they that doe
Attempt to ruine me, will ransacke you:
First, you shall firmely' engage your plighted troth,
By the acceptance of a sacred oath,

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That when I shall be pris'ner to your bands,
I may not suffer violence by your hands:
With that, they drawing nearer to him, laid
Their hands beneath his brawny thigh, and said,
Then let the God of Iacob cease to blesse
The tribe of Iudah, with a faire successe,
In ought they put their cursed band unto,
And raze their seed, Jf we attempt to doe
Bound Samson violence; And if this curse
Be not sufficient, heaven contrive a worse:
With that the willing prisoner joyn'd his hands,
To be subjected to their stronger bands:
With treble twisted cords, that never tried
The twitch of strength, their busie fingers tied
His sinewy wrists, which being often wound
About his beating pulse, they brought him bound
To the forefront of the Philistian band,
And left him captive in their cursed hand.

Meditat. 17.

O what a pearle is hidden in this field,
Whose orient luster, and perfections yeeld
So great a treasure, that the Easterne Kings,
With all the wealth, their colder Climate brings;
Nere saw the like: It is a pearle whose glory
Is the diviner subject of a story,
Pend by an Angels quill; not understood
By the too dull conceit of flesh and bloud!
Vnkinde Judeans, what have you presented
Before your eyes? O, what have you attented!

350

He that was borne on purpose, to release
His life for yours, to bring your Nation peace;
To turne your mournings into joyfull Songs;
To fight your Battells; to revenge your wrongs;
Even him, alas, your cursed hands have made
This day your prisoner; Him have you betraid
To death: O, he whose snowy arme had power
To crush you all to nothing, and to shower
Downe strokes like thunderbolts, whose blasting breath
Might in a moment, puft you all to death,
And made ye fall before his frowning Brow,
See how he goes away, betraid by you!

Thou great Redeemer of the world! whose bloud
Hath power to save more worlds, than Noahs floud
Destroyed bodies; thou, O thou that art
The Samson of our soules, How can the heart
Of man give thankes enough, that does not know
How much his death-redeemed soule does owe
To thy deare merits? We can apprehend
No more than flesh and bloud does recommend
To our confined thoughts: Alas, we can
Conceive thy love, but as the love of man:
We cannot tell the horror of that paine
Thou bought us from; nor can our hearts attaine
Those joyes that thou hast purchas'd in our name,
Nor yet the price thou paidst: our thoughts are lāe,
And craz'd; Alas, things mortall have no might,
No meanes to comprehend an Infinite:
We can behold thee cradled in a Manger
In a poore Stable: We can see the danger
The Tetrarch's fury made thee subject to;
We can conceive thy peverty; We know
Thy blessed hands (that might bin freed) were boūd,
We know, alas, thy bleeding browes were crown'd

351

With pricking thorne; Thy body torne with whips;
Thy palmes impeirc'd with ragged nailes; Thy lips
Saluted with a Traitors kisse; Thy browes
Sweating forth bloud: Thy oft repeated blowes;
Thy fastning to the crosse; Thy shamefull death;
These outward tortures all come underneath
Our dull conceits: But, what thy blessed soule
(That bore the burden of our guilt, and Scroule
Of all our sinnes, and horrid paines of Hell)
O, what that soule endur'd, what soule can tell!