Divine poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Soone as occasion lent our Champions eare
To Delila, which could not chuse but heare,
If Delila but whisper'd; she, whose wiles
Were neatly baited with her simple smiles,
Accosted Samson; Her alluring hand
Sometimes would stroke his Temples; sometime span'd
His brawny arme, Sometimes, would gently gripe
His sinewy wrest; Another while, would wipe
His sweating browes; Her wanton fingers plai'd,
Sometimes, with his faire lockes; sometimes, would brai'd
His long dishevell'd hair; her eyes, one while
Would steale a glance upon his eyes, and smile;
And, thē, her crafty lips would speak; then, smother
Her broken speech; and, then, begin another:
At last, as if a sudden thought had brake
From the faire prison of her lips, she spake;

How poore a Grisle is this arme of mine!
Me thinkes, 'tis nothing, in respect of thine;
I'd rather feele the power of thy Love,
Than of thy hand; In that, my heart would prove

368

The stouter Champion, and would make thee yeeld,
And leave thee captive in the conquer'd field.
The strength of my affection passes thine,
As much as thy victorious arme does mine;
The greatest conquest, then, is due to me;
Thou conquer'st others, but I conquer thee:
But say, my love, is it some bidden charme,
Or does thy stocke of youth enrich thy arme
With so great power, that can overthrow,
And conquer mighty Kingdomes, at a blow?
What cause have I to joy! J need not feare
The greatest danger, now my Samson's here:
I feare no Rebels now; me thinks, thy power
Makes me a Princesse, and my house, a Tower:
But say, my Love, if Delila should finde thee,
Lost in a fleepe, could not her fingers binde thee?
Me thinkes they should: But I would scorne to make
So poore a Conquest: When th'art broad awake,
Teach me the tricke: Or if thou wilt deny me;
Know, that my owne invention shall supply me,
Without thy helpe: I'le use a womans charmes,
And binde thee fast, within these circled Armes:
To whom, the Champion, smiling, thus replied;

Take the greene Osyers that were never dried,
And bind thy Samsons wrists together, then,
He shall be fast, and weake as other men:
With that, the Philistines, that lay in waite
Within an eares command, commanded strait,
That Osyers should be brought: wherwith she tyed
Victorious Samsons joyned hands, and cryed;
Samson make haste; and let thy strength appeare:
Samson take heed; the Philistines are here:
He starts, and as the flaming fier cracks
The slender substance of th'untwisted flaxe,

369

He twitcht in sunder his divided bands,
And in a moment freed his fastned hands;
With that offended Delila bewrai'd
A frowne, halfe sweetned with a smile, and said;

Thinkst thou, thy Delila does goe about
T'entrappe thy life? Or, can my Samson doubt
To lodge a secret in the loyall brest
Of faithfull Delila, that findes no rest,
No happinesse, but in thy heart, alone,
Whose Joy I prize farre dearer then my owne?
Why then shouldst thou deceive me, and impart
So soule a falshood, to so true a heart?
Come, grant my suite, and let that faithlesse tongue
Make love amends which hath done love this wrong:
To whom dissembling Samson thus replied,
Take twisted ropes, whose strength was never tryed,
And tye these closed hands together; then,
J shall be fast, and weake as other men:
With that, she bound him close; and having made
The knot more suer, then her love's, she said;
Samson arise; and take thy strength vpon thee;
Samson make hast; the Philistines are on thee:
He straight arose, and as a striving hand
Would breake a Sisters thred, he crackt the band
That bound his arms, he crackt the bands in sunder;
But frowning Delila, whose heart did wonder
No lesse then vexe, being fill'd with discontent,
She said; False lover, If thy heart had meant,
What thy faire tongue had formerly profest,
Thou nere hadst kept thy secrets from my brest:
Wherein hath Delila bin found unjust,
Not to deserve the honour of thy trust?
Wherein, have I beene faithlesse or disloyall?
Or what request of thine, ere found denyall?

370

Had I but bin so wise, as to deny,
Samson might beg'd, and misi, as well as I:
But 'tis my fortune, still, to be most free
To those, as are the most reserv'd to me:
Be not ingratefull, Samson; If my brest
Were but as false, as thine is hard, J'd rest
To tempt thy silence, or to move my suite:
Speake then, but speake the truth; or else be mute.
To whom, fond Samson; If thy hands would tye
These locks to yonder Beame, they will discrie
My native weaknesse: and thy Samson, then,
Would be as poore in strength, as other men:
So said; her busie fingers soone obey'd;
His locks being platted to the beame, she said:
Samson bestirre thee; and let thy power appeare:
Samson take heed, the Philistines are here:
With that he quits the place (whereon he lay,
Fallne fast asleepe) and bore the Beame away.

Meditat. 21.

See, how the crafty Serpent, twists and windes
Into the brest of man! What paths he findes,
And crooked by wayes! With how sweet a baite
He hides the hooke of his inveterate hate!
What suger'd words, and eare-delighting Art
He uses, to supplant the yeelding heart
Of poore deceived man, who stands and trusts
Vpon the broken staffe of his false lusts!
He tempts; allures; suggests; and, in conclusion,
Makes Man the Pander to his owne confusion:

371

The fruit was faire and pleasing to the eyes,
Apt to breed knowledge, and to make them wise;
Must they not taste so faire a fruit, not touch?
Yes, doe: Twill make you Gods, and know as much
As he that made it: Thinke you, you can fall
Into deaths hands? Yee shall not dye at all:
Thus fell poore man: his knowledge proved such,
Better't had bin, he had not knowne so much:
Thus this old Serpent takes advantage still
On our desiers, and distemperd will:
Art thou growne Covetous? wouldst thou faine be rich?
He comes and strikes thy heart with the dry itch
Of having: Wealth wil rouze thy heartles friends;
Make thee a potent Master of thy Ends;
'Twill bring thee honour; make thy suites at Law
Prosper at will; and keepe thy Foes in awe:
Art thou Ambitious? He will kindle fire
In thy proud thoughts & make thy thoughts aspire;
Hee'l come and teach thy honour how to scorne
Thy old acquaintance, whom thou hast outworne:
Hee'l teach thee how to Lord it, and advance
Thy servants fortunes, with thy Countenance:
Wouldst thou enjoy the Pleasures of the flesh?
Hee'l bring thee wanton Ladies, to refresh
Thy drooping soule: He'l teach thine eyes to wander;
Instruct thee how to wooe; Hee'l be thy Pander:
Hee'l fill thy amorous soule with the sweet passion
Of powerfull Love: Hee'l give thee dispensation,
To sinne at pleasure; He will make thee Slave
To thy own thoughts: hee'l make thee beg & crave
To be a drudge: hee'l make thy treacherous breath
Destroy thee, and betray thee to thy death.

Lord; if our Father Adam could not stay
In his upright perfection, one poore day;

372

How can it be expected, we have power
To hold out Seige, one scruple of an hower:
Our Armes are bound with too unequall bands;
We cannot strive; We cannot loose our hands:

Great Nazarite, awake; and looke upon us:
Make haste to helpe; The Philistines are on us.