a full ag'd Lyon who had sought But could not finde his long desired prey Soone as his eye had given him hopes to pay His debt to nature and to mend that fault His empty stomacke found he made assault Vpon th' unarmed lovers brest whose hand Had neither staffe nor weapon to withstand His greedy rage but he whose mighty strength Or sudden death must now appeare at length Stretcht forth his brawny arme his arme supplide With power from heaven and did with ease divide His body limme from limme and did betray His Flesh to foules that lately sought his prey This done his quicke redoubled paces make His stay amends his nimble steps oretake His leading parents who by this discover The smoake of Timnah Now the greedy Lover Thinkes every step a mile and every pace A measur'd League untill he see that face And finde the treasure of his heart that lies In the faire Casket of his Mistresse Eyes But all this while close Samson made not knowne Vnto his parents what his hands had done By this the gate of Timnah entertaines The welcome travellers The parents paines Are now rewarded with their sonnes best pleasure The Virgin comes His eyes can finde no leasure To owne another object O the greeting Th' impatient lovers had at their first meeting The Lover speakes She answers He replies She blushes He demandeth She denyes He pleads affection She doubts Hee sues For nuptiall love She questions Hee renewes His earnest suite Importunes She relents He must have no deniall She consents They passe their mutuall loves Their joyned hands Are equall earnests of the nuptiall bands The parents are agreed All parties pleas'd The day 's set downe the lovers hearts are eas'd Nothing displeases now but the long stay Betwixt th' appointment and the mariage day MEDITAT 8. T Is too severe a censure If the Sonne Take him a wife the mariage fairely done Without consent of parents who perchance Had rais'd his higher price knew where t' advance His better'd fortunes to one hundred more He lives a Fornicator She a Whore Too hard a censure And it seemes to me The parent's most delinquent of the three What if the better minded Son doe aime At worth What if rare vertues doe inflame His rapt affection What if the condition Of an admir'd and dainty disposition Hath won his soule Where as the covetous Father Findes her Gold light and recommends him rather T' an old worne widow whose more weighty purse Is fill'd with gold and with the Orphans curse The sweet exubrance of whose full-mouth'd portion Is but the cursed issue of extortion Whose worth perchance lies onely in her weight Or in the bosome of her great estate What if the Sonne that does not care to buy Abundance at so deare a rate deny The soule-detesting profer of his Father And in his better judgement chooses rather To match with meaner Fortunes and desert I thinke that Mary chose the better part What noble Families that have out growne The best records have quite binoverthrowne By wilfull parents that will either force Their sonnes to match or haunt them with a curse That can adapt their humours to rejoyce And fancy all things but their childrens choice Which makes them often timerous to reveale The close desiers of their hearts and steale Such matches as perchance their faire advice Might in the bud have hindred in a trice Which done and past O then their hastie spirit Can thinke of nothing under Disinherit He must be quite discarded and exilde The furious father must renounce his childe Nor Prayre nor Blessing must he have bereiven Of all Nor must he live nor die forgiven When as the Fathers rashnesse often times Was the first causer of the Childrens crimes Parents be not too cruell Children doe Things oft too deepe for us t' enquire into What father would not siorme if his wild Sonne Should doe the deed that Samson here had done Nor doe I make it an exemplar act Only let parents not be too exact To curse their children or to dispossesse Them of their blessings Heaven may chance to blesse Be not too strict Faire language may recure A fault of youth whilst rougher words obdure SECT 9. ARGVMENT Samson goes downe to celebrate His mariage and his nuptiall feast The Lyon which he slue of late Hath hony in his putrid brest WHen as the long expected time was come Wherein these lingring Lovers should consumme The promis'd mariage and observe therites Pertaining to those festivall delights Samson went downe to Timnah there t' enjoy The sweet possession of his dearest joy But as he past those fruitfull Vineyards where His hands of late acquit him of that feare Wherewith the feirce assaulting Lyon quail'd His yet unpractis'd courage and prevail'd Vpon his life as by that place he past He turn'd aside and borrowed of his hast A little time wherein his eyes might view The Carkas of the Lyon which he flew But when his wandring footsteps had drawne neere The unlamented herse his wandring eare MEDITAT 9. HOw high unutterable how profound Whose depth the line of knowledge cannot sound Are the decrees of the Eternall God! How secret are his wayes and how untrod By mans conceipt so deeply charg'd with doubt How are his Counsells past our finding out O how unscrutable are his designes How deepe and how unsearchable are the Mines Of his abundant Wisedome How obscure Are his eternall Iudgements and how sure Lists he to strike The very Stones shall flie From their unmov'd Foundations and destroy Lists he to punish Things that haue no sense Shall vindicate his Quarrell on th' Offence Lists he to send a plague The winters heate And summers damp shall make his will compleate Lists he to send the Sword Occasion brings New Iealousies betwixt the hearts of Kings Wills he afamine Heaven shall turne to brasse And earth to Iron till it come to passe With stockes and stones and plants and beasts fulfill The secret Counsell of his sacred will Man onely wretched Man is disagreeing To doe that thing for which he hath his being Samson must downe to Timnah In the way Must meete a Lyon whom his hands must slay The Lyo'ns putrid Carkas must enclose A swarme of Bees and from the Bees arose A Riddle and that Riddle must be read And by the reading Choller must be bred And that must bring to passe Gods just designes Vpon the death of the false Philistines Behold the progresse and the royall Gests Of Heavens high vengeance how it never rests Till by appointed courses it fufill The secret pleasure of his sacred will Great Saviour of the world Thou Lambe of Sion That hides our sinnes Thou art that wounded Lyon O in thy dying body we have found A world of hony whence we may propound Such sacred Riddles as shall underneath Our feet subdue the power of Hell and Death Such Misteries as none but he that plough'd With thy sweet Hayfer's able to uncloud Such
Crowne Yet Man O most ungratefull Man can ever Enjoy the Gift but never minde the Giver And like the Swine though pamper'd with enough His eyes are never higher then the Trough We still receive Our hearts we seldome lift To heaven But drowne the giver in the Gift We tast the Skollops and returne the Shells Our sweet Pomgranats want their silver Bells We take the Gift the hand that did present it We oft reward forget the Friend that sent it A blessing given to those will not disburse Some thanks is little better then a curse Great giver of all blessngs thou that art The Lord of Gifts give me a gratefull heart O give me that or keepe thy favours from me I wish no blessings with a Vengeance to me SECT 6. ARGVMENT Affrighted Manoah and his wife Both prostrate on the naked earth Both rise The man despaires of life The woman cheares him Samsons birth VVHen time whose progresse moderates and outweares Th' extreamest passions of the highest Feares By his benignant power had reinlarg'd Their captive senses and at length discharg'd Their frighted thoughts the trembling Couple rose From their unquiet and disturb'd repose Have you beheld a Tempest how the waves Whose unresisted Tyranny out-braves And threats to grapple with the darkned Skies How like to moving Mountaines they arise From their distempred Ocean and assaile Heavens Battlements nay when the windes doe faile To breathe another blast with their owne motion They still are swelling and disturbe the Ocean Even so the Danite and his trembling wife Their yet confused thoughts are still at strife In their perplexed brests which entertain'd Continued feares too strong to be refrain'd Speechlesse they stood till Manoah that brake The silence first disclos'd his lips and spake What strange aspect was this that to our sight Appear'd so terrible and did affright Our scattering thoughts What did our eyes behold I feare our lavish tongues have bin too bold What speeches past betweene us Can'st recall The words we entertain'd the time withall It was no man It was no flesh and blood Me thought mine eares did tingle while he stood And commun'd with me At each word he spake Me thought my heart recoil'd his voice did shake My very Soule but when as he became So angry and so dainty of his name O how my wonder-smitten heart began To faile O then I knew it was no man No no It was the face of God Our eyes Have seene his face who ever saw 't but dies We are but dead Death dwells within his eye And we have seen 't and we shall surely die Where to the woman who did either hide Or else had over come her feares replide Despairing Man take courage and forheare These false predictions there 's no cause of feare Would Heaven accept our offerings and receive Our holy things and after that bereive His servants of their lives Can he be thus Pleas'd with our offerings unappear'd with us Hath he not promis'd that the time shall come Wherein the fruits of my restored wombe Shall make thee Father to a hopefull Sonne Can Heaven be false Or can these things be done When we are dead No no His holy breath Had spent in vaine if he had ment our death Recall thy needlesse feares Heaven cannot lye Although we saw his face we shall not dye So said they brake off their discourse and went He to the field and she into her Tent Thrice forty dayes not full compleate being come Within th' enclosure of her quickned wombe The babe began to spring and with his motion Confirm'd the faith and quickned the devotion Ofhis believing parents whose devout And heaven-ascending Orizans no doubt Were turn'd to thankes and heart-rejoycing praise To holy Hymnes and heavenly Roundelaies The child growes sturdy Every day gives strength Vnto his wombe fed limmes till at the length Th' apparant mother having past the date Of her accoumpt does onely now awaite The happy houre wherein she may obtaine Her greatest pleasure with her greatest paine When as the faire directresse of the night Had thrice three times repair'd her wained light Her wombe no longer able to retaine So great a guest betrai'd her to her paine And for the toilesome worke that she had done She found the wages of a new borne Sonne Samson she call'd his name The childe encreast And hourely suckt a blessing with the brest Daily his strength did double He began To grow in favour both with God and Man His well attended Infancie was blest With sweetnesse in his Childhood he exprest True seeds of Honour and his youth was crown'd With high and brave adventures which renown'd His honour'd name His courage was supplide With mighty strength His haughty spirit defide An hoast of men His power had the praise 'Bove all that were before or since his dayes And to conclude Heav'n never yet conjoin'd So strong a body with so stout a minde MEDITAT 6. HOw pretious were those blessed dayes wherein Soules never startled at the name of Sin When as the voyce of Death had never yet A mouth to open or to clame a debt When bashfull nakednesse forbare to call For needlesse skinns to cover Shame withall When as the fruit-encreasing earth obay'd The will of Man without the wound of Spaide Or helpe of Art When he that now remaines A cursed Captive to infernall chaines Sate singing Anthems in the heavenly Quire Among his fellow Angells When the Bryer The fruitlesse Bramble the fast growing weed And downie Thistle had as yet no seed When labour was not knowne and man did eate The earths faire fruits unearned with his sweate When wombes might have conceiv'd without the staine Of sinne and brought forth children without paine When Heaven could speake to mans unfrighted care Without the sense of sin-begotten feare How golden were those dayes How happy than Was the condition and the State of man But Man obay'd not And his proud desire Cing'd her bold feathers in forbidden fier But Man transgrest And now his freedome feeles A sudden change Sinne followes at his heeles The voice calls Adam But poore Adam flees And trembling hides his face behind the trees The voice whilere that ravisht with delight His joyfull eare does now alas affright His wounded conscience with amaze and wonder And what of late was musicke now is Thunder How have our sinnes abus'd us and betrai'd Our desperate soules What strangenesse have they made Betwixt the great Creator and the worke Of his owne hands How closely doe they lurke To our distempred soules and whisper feares And doubts into our frighted hearts and eares Our eyes cannot behold that glorious face Which is all life unruin'd in the place How is our natures chang'd That very breath Which gave us being is become our death Great God! O whither shall poore mortalls flie For comfort If they see thy face they dye And if thy life-restoring count'nance give Thy presence from us then we cannot live How necessary
thoughts did guide His lips to fairer language thus replide Yee men of Iudah what distrustfull thought Of single Samsons violence hath brought So great a strength as if you meant t' orethrow Some mighty Monarch or surprise a Foe Tour easie errand might as well bin done By two or three or by the lips of one The meanest childe of holy Israels seede Might conquer'd Samson with a bruised reed 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 then you My comming is on a more faire designe I come to crush your tyranous foes and mine I come to free your country and recall Your servile shoulders 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 faith full Champion to those hands that lay Perpetuall burthens on which daily vex Your galled shoulders and your servile necks The wrongs these cursed Philistines have done My simple innocence have quite outrun My easie patience If my arme may right My too much injur'd suffrance 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 T is well But they that doe Attempt to ruine me will ransack you First you shall firmely ' engage your plighted troth By the acceptance of a sacred oath That when I shall be prisoner 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 hand unto And raze their seed If we attempt to doe Bound Samson violence And if this curse Be not sufficient heaven contrive a worse With that the willing prisoner join'd his hands To be subjected to their stronger bands With treble twisted cords that never tried The twitch of strength their buisie 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 Penn'd by an Angells quill not understood By the too dull con ceitof flesh and blood Vnkinde Iudeans what have you presented Before our eyes O what have you attented 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 hee whose sinowy arme had power To crush you all to nothing and to shower Down strokes like thunderbolts whose blasting breath Might in a moment pufft 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 blood Hath power to save more worlds then Noah's flood Destroyed bodies thou O thou that art The Samson of our soules How can the heart Of man give thanks enough that does not know How much his death-redeemed soule does owe To thy deare merits We can apprehend No more then flesh and blood 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 not can our hearts attaine Those joyes that thou hast purchas'd in our name Nor yet the price thou paidst Our thoughts are lame 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 poverty We know Thy blessed hands that might bin freed were bound We know alas thy bleeding browes were crown'd With prickling thorne Thy body torne with whips Thy palmes impeirc'd with ragged nailes Thy lips Saluted with a Traitors kisse Thy browes Sweating forth blood Thy oftrepeated 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 burthen of our guilt and Scroule Of all our sinns and horrid paines of Hell O what that soule endur'd what soule can tell SECT 18. ARGVMENT He breakes their bands And with a Bone A thousand Philistians he slue He thirsted fainted made his mone To heaven He drinkes His spirits renew THus when the glad Philistians had obtain'd The summe of all their hopes they entertain'd The welcome pris'ner with a greater noise Of triumph then the greatnesse of their joyes Required Some with sudden death would greet The new come Guest whil'st others more discreet With lingring paines and tortures more exact Would force him to discover in the Fact Who his Abettors were others gainsaid That course for feare a rescue may be made Some cry T is fittest that th' offender bleed There where his cursed hands had done the deed Others cryed No where Fortune hath consign'd him Wee'lk H him Best to kill him where we finde him Thus variously they spent their doubtfull breath At last they all agreed on sudden death There 's no contention now but onely who Shall strike the first or give the speeding blow Have yee beheld a single thred of flax Touch'd by the fier how the fier crackes With ease and parts the slender twine in sunder Even so as the first arme began to thunder Vpon the Prisners life he burst the bands From his strong wrists and freed his loosned hands Hee stoop'd from off the blood-expecting grasse He snatcht the crooked jaw-bone of an Asse Wherewith his fury dealt such downe-right blowes So oft redoubled that it overthrowes Man after man And being ring'd about With the distracted and amazed rout Of rude Philistians turn'd his body round And in a circle dings them to the ground Each blow had proofe for where the jaw-bone mist The furious Champion wounded with his fist Betwixt them both his fury did uncase A thousand soules which in that fatall place Had left their ruin'd carkeises to feast The slesh-devouring fowle and rav'nous beast With that the Conquerour that now had fed And surfeited his eye upon the dead His hand had slaine sate downe and having flung His purple weapon by triumpht and sung SAmson rejoyce Be fill'd
chain'd To this sad Object with a full delight To see this flesh-and-blood-relenting sight With that the pris'ner turnd himselfe and prai'd So soft that none but heaven could heare and said My God my God Although my sinnes doe cry For greater vengeance yet thy gratious eye Is full of mercy O remember now The gentle promise and that sacred vow Thou mad'st to faithfull Abram and his seed O heare my wounded soule that has lesse need Of life then mercy Let thy tender eare Make good thy plentious promise now and heare See how thy cursed enemies prevaile Above my strength Behold how poore and fraile My native power is and wanting thee What is there Oh what is there Lord in me Nor is it I that suffer My desart May challenge greater vengeance if thou wert Extreme to punish Lord the wrong is thine The punishment is just and onely mine I am thy Champion Lord It is not me They strike at Through my sides they thrust at thee Against thy Glory 't is their Malice lies They aym'd at that when they put out these eyes Alas their blood bedabbl'd hands would flie On thee wert thou but cloth'd in flesh as I Revenge thy wrongs great God O let thy hand Redeeme thy suffring honour and this land Lend me thy power Renew my wasted strength That I may fight thy battells and at length Rescue thy Glory that my hands may doe That faithfull service they were borne unto Lend me thy power that I may restore Thy losse and I will never urge thee more Thus having ended both his armes he laid Vpon the pillours of the Hall and said Thus with the Philistines I resigne my breath Andlet my God finde Glory in my death And having spoke his yeelding body strain'd Vpon those Marble pillour that sustain'd The pondrous Roofe They crackt and with their fall Downe fell the Battlements and Roofe and all And with their ruines slaughter'd at a blow The whole Assembly They that were below Receiv'd their sudden deaths from those that fell From off the top whilst none was loft to tell The horrid shreekes that filld the spatious Hall Whose ruines were impartiall and slew all They fell and with an unexpected blow Gave every one his death and Buriall too Thus died our Samson whose brave death has won More honour then his honourd life had done Thus died our Conquerour whose latest breath Was crown'd with Conquest triumph'd over death Thus died our Samson whose last drop of blood Redeem'd heavens glory and his Kingdom 's good Thus died heavens Champion the earths bright Glory The heavenly subject of this sacred story And thus th' impartiall hand of death that gathers All to the Grave repos'd him with his fathers Whose name shall flourish and be still in prime In spight of ruine or the teeth of Time Whose fame shall last till heaven shall please to free This Earth from Sinne and Time shall cease to be MEDITAT 23. VVAges of sinne is death The day must come Wherein the equall hand of death must summe The severall Items of mans fading glory Into the easie Totall of one Story The browes that sweat for kingdomes and renowne To gloryfie their Temples with a Crowne At length grow cold and leave their honour'd name To flourish in th' uncertaine blast of fame This is the height that glorious mortalls can Attaine This is the highest pitch of Man The quilted Quarters of the Earths great Ball Whose unconfined limits were too small For his extreme Ambition to deserve Six foote of length and three of bredth must serve This is the highest pitch that Man can flie And after all his Triumph he must die Lives he in Wealth Does well deserved store Limit his wish that he can wish no more And does the fairest bounty of encrease Crowne him with plenty and his dayes with peace It is a right hand blessing But supplie Of wealth cannot secure him He must die Lives he in Pleasure Dóes perpetuall mirth Lend him a little Heaven upon his earth Meets he no sullen care no sudden losse To coole his joyes Breathes he without a crosse Wants he no pleasure that his want on eye Can crave or hope from fortune He must dye Lives he in Honour Hath his faire desart Obtain'd the freedome of his Princes heart Or may his more familiar hands disburse His liberall favours from the royall purse Alas his Honour cannot soare too high For palefac'd death to follow He must dye Lives he a Conqu'rour And doth heaven blesse His heart with spirit that spirit with successe Successe with Glory Glory with a name To live with the Eternity of Fame The progresse of his lasting fame may vye With time But yet the Conquerour must dye Great and good God Thou Lord of life and death In whom the Creature hath his being breath Teach me to under prize this life and I Shall finde my losse the easier when I dye So raise my feeble thoughts and dull desire That when these vaine and weary dayes expire I may discard my flesh with joy and quit My better part of this false earth and it Of some more sinne and for this Transitory And teadious life enjoy a life of Glory The end