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
sacred Misteries whose eternall praise Shall make both Angells and Archangells raise Their louder voices and in triumph sing All Glory and Honour to our highest King And to the Lambe that sits upon the throne Worthy of power and praise is he alone Whose glory hath advanc'd our key of mirth Glory to God on high and peace on Earth SECT 10. ARGVMENT The Bridegroome at his nuptiall Feast To the Philistians doth propound A Riddle which they all addrest Themselves in counsell to expound NOw when the glory of the next dayes light Had chas'd the shadows of the tedious night When coupling Hymen with his nuptiall bands And golden Fetters had conjoyn'd their hands When jolly welcome had to every Guest Expos'd the bounty of the mariage Feast Their now appeased stomacks did enlarge Their captive tongues with power to discharge And quit their Table-duty and disburse Their store of enterchangeable discourse Th' ingenious Bridegroome turn'd his rolling eyes Vpon his guard of Bridemen and applies His speech to them And whilst that every man Lent his attentive eare he thus began My tongue 's in labour and my thoughts abound I have a doubtfull Riddle to propound MEDITAT 10. THere is a time to laugh A time to turne Our smiles to teares There is a time to mourne There is a time for joy and a time for griefe A time to want and a time to finde reliefe A time to binde and there 's a time to breake A time for silence and a time to speake A time to labour and a time to rest A time to fast in and a time to feast Things that are lawfull haue their times and use Created good and onely by abuse Made bad Our sinfull usage does unfashion What heaven hath made and makes a new creation Ioy is a blessing but too great excesse Makes Ioy a Madnesse and does quite unblesse So sweet a gift And what by moderate use Crownes our desiers banes them in th' abuse Wealth is a blessing But too eager thurst Of having more makes what we have accurst Rest is a blessing But when Rest withstands The healthfull labour of our helpfull hands It proves a curse and staines our guilt with crime Betraies our irrecoverable time To feast and to refresh our hearts with pleasure And fill our soules with th' overflowing measure Of heavens blest bounty cannot but commend The pretious favours of so sweet a friend But when th' abundance of a liberall diet Meant for a blessing is abus'd by Riot Th' abused blessing leaves the gift nay worse It is transform'd and turn'd into a curse Things that afford most pleasure in the use Are ever found most harmfull in th' abuse Vse them like Masters and their tyrannous hand Subjects thee like a slave to their command Vse them as Servants and they will obey thee Take heed They 'l eyther blesse thee or betray thee Could our Fore-fathers but revive and see Their Childrens Feasts as now a dayes they be Their studyed dishes Their restoring stuffe To make their wanton bodies sinne enough Their stomacke-whetting Sallats to invite Their wastfull palats to an appetite Their thirst-procuring dainties to refine Their wanton tastes and make them strong for wine Their costly viands charg'd with rich perfume Their Viper-wines to make old age presume To feele new lust and youthfull flames agin And serve another prentiship to sinne Their time-betraying Musicke their base noise Of odious Fidlers with their smooth-fac'd boyes Whose tongues are perfect if they can proclame The Quintessence of basenesse without shame Their deepe mouth'd curses New invented Oathes Their execrable Blasphemy that loathes A minde to thinke on Their obsceaner words Their drunken Quarrells Their unsheathed swords O how they 'd blesse themselves and blush for shame In our behalfs and hast from whence they came To kisse their graves that hid them from the crimes Of these accursed and prodigious times Great God O can thy patient eye behold This height of sinne and can thy Vengeance hold SECT 11. ARGVMENT The Philistins cannot unsolve The Riddle They corrupt the Bride She wooes her Bridegroome to resolve Her doubt but goes away denyde NOw when three dayes had run their howers out And left no hope for wit-forsaken doubt To be resolv'd the desp'rate undertakers Conjoyn'd their whispring heads being all partakers And joynt-advisers in their new-laid plot The time 's concluded Have yee not forgot How the old Tempter when he first began To worke th' unhappy overthrow of man Accosts the simple woman and reflects Vpon the frailty of her weaker Sex Even so these curs'd Philistians being taught And tutord by the selfe same spirit wrought The selfe same way Their speedy steps are bent To the faire Bride Their hast could giue no vent To their coarcted thoughts their language made A little respite and at length they said Fairest of Creatures Let thy gentle heart Receive the crowne due to so faire desert We have a Suit that must attend the leisure Of thy best thoughts and joy-restoring pleasure Our names and credits linger at the stake Of deepe dishonour If thou undertake With pleasing language to prevent the losse They must sustaine and draw them from the drosse Of their owne ruines they shall meerely owe Themselves unto thy goodnesse and shall know No other patron and acknowledge none As their redeemer but thy love alone We cannot read the Riddle where unto We have engag'd our goods and credits too Entice thy jolly Bridgroome to unfold The hidden Myst'ry what can he withhold From the rare beauty of so faire a brow And when thou knowst it let thy servants know What dost thou frowne And must our easie tryall At first reade Hieroglyphickes of deniall And art thou silent too Nay wee 'l give ore To tempt thy bridall fondnesse any more Betray your lovely husbands secrets No You 'l first betray us and our Land But know Proud Samsons wife our furies shall make good Our losse of wealth and honour in thy blood Where faire entreaties spend themselves in vaine There fier shall consume or else constraine Know then false hearted Bride if our request Can find no place within thy sullen brest Our hands shall vindicate our lost desire And burne thy Fathers house and thee with fire Thus having lodg'd their errand in her eares They left the roome and her unto her feares Who thus bethought Hard is the case that I Must or betray my husbands trust or dye I have a Wolfe by th' eares I dare be bold Neither with safety to let goe nor hold What shall I doe Their minds if I fulfill not 'T is death And to betray his trust I will not Nay should my lips demand perchance his breath Will not resolve me Then no way but death The wager is not great Rather the strife Were ended in his losse then in my life His life consists in mine If ought amisse Befall my life it may endanger his Wagers must yeeld to life I hold it best
Of necessary evills to choose the least Why doubt I then When Reason bids me doe I le know the Riddle and betray it too With that she quits her chamber with her cares And in her closset locks up all her feares And with a speed untainted with delay She found that brest wherein her owne heart lay Where resting for a while at length did take A faire occasion to looke up and spake Life of my soule and loves perpetuall treasure If my desires be suiting to thy pleasure My lips would move a Suite My doubtfull brest Would faine preferre an undenyde request When strength of wit and secret power of fraud Grow dull constraint must conquer and applaud With ill got vict'ry which at length obtaind Alas how poore a trifle have we gaind How are our soules distempered to engrosse Such fading pleasures To ore-prize the dresse And under-rate the gold for painted Ioyes To sell the true and heaven it selfe for Toyes Lord clarifie mine eyes that I may know Things that are good from what are good in show And give me wisedome that my heart may learne The diffrence of thy favours and discerne What 's truly good from what is good in part With Martha's trouble give me Maries heart SECT 12. ARGVMENT The Bride shee begs and begs in vaine But like to a prevailing wooer She sues and sues and sues againe At last he reads the Riddle to her WHen the next morning had renew'd the day And th' earely twilight now had chac'd away The pride of night and made her lay aside Her spangled Robes the discontented Bride Whose troubled thoughts were tired with the night And broken slumbers long had wisht for light With a deepe sigh her sorrow did awake Her drowsie Bridegroome whom she thus bespake O if thy love could share an equall part In the sad griefes of my asflicted heart Thy closed eyes had never in this sort Bin pleas'd with rest and made thy night so short Perchance if my dull eyes had slumbred too My dreames had done what thou denide to doe Perchance my Fancy would have bin so kinde T' unsolve the doubts of my perplexed minde I was a small suite that thy unluckie Bride Must light upon Too small to be denyde Can love so soone But ere her lips could spend The following words he said suspend suspend Thy rash attempt and let thy tongue dispense With forc'd denyall Let thy lips commence Some greater Suite and Samson shall make good Thy faire desiers with his dearest blood Speake then my love thou shalt net wish and want Thou canst not beg what Samson cannot grant Onely in this excuse me and refraine To beg what thou perforce must beg in vaine Inexorable Samson Can the teares From those faire eyes not move thy deafned eares O can those drops that trickle from those eyes Vpon thy naked bosome not surprize Thy neighb'ring heart and force it to obey O can thy heart not melt as well as they Thou little thinkst thy poore afflicted wife Importunes thee and wooes thee for her life Her Suit 's as great a Riddle to thine eares As thine to hers O these distilling teares Are silent pleaders and her moistred breath Would faine redeeme her from the gates of death May not her teares prevaile Alas thy strife Is but for wagers Her 's poore Soule for life Now when this day had yeelded up his right To the succeeding Empresse of the night Whose soone-deposed raigne did reconvay Her crowne and Scepter to the new borne day The restlesse Bride feares cannot brooke deniall Renewes her suite and attempts a further tryall Entreats conjures she leaves no way untride She will not no she must not be denide But he the portalls of whose marble heart Was lockt and barr'd against the powerfull art Of oft repeated teares stood deafe and dumbe He must not no he will not be orecome Poore Bride How is thy glory overcast How is the pleasure of the nuptialls past When scarce begun Alas how poore a breath Of joy must puffe thee to untimely death The day 's at hand wherein thou must untie The Riddles tangled Snarle or else must die Now when that day was come wherein the feast Was to expire the Bride whose pensive brest Grew sad to death did once more undertake Her too resolved Bridegroome thus and spake Vpon these knees that prostrate on the floore Are lowly bended and shall nev'r give ore To move thy goodnesse that shall never rise Vntill my Suite finds favour in thine eyes Vpon these naked knees I here present My sad request O let thy heart relent A Suitor sues that never sued before And she begs now that never will beg more Hast thou vow'd silence O remember how Thou art engaged by a former vow Thy heart is mine The secrets of thy heart Are mine Why art thou dainty to impart Mine owne to me Then give me leave to sue For what my right may challenge as her due Vnfold thy Riddle then that I may know Thy love is more then only love in show The Bridegroome thus enchanted by his Bride Vnseal'd his long-kept silence and replide Thou sole and great commandresse of my heart Thou hast prevail'd my bosome shall impart The summe of thy desiers and discharge The faithfull secrets of my soule at large Know then my joy Vpon that very day I first made knowne my'affection on the way I met and grappled with a sturdy Lyon Having nor staffe nor weapon to relie on I was enforc'd to proove my naked strength Vnequall was the match But at the length This brawney arme receiving strength from him That gave it life I tore him limme from limme And left him dead Now when the time was come Wherein our promis'd nuptialls were to summe And perfect all my joyes as I was comming That very way a strange confused humming Not distant farre possest my wondring eare Where guided by the noise there did appeare A Swarme of Bees whose busie labours fill'd The Carkasse of that Lyon which I kill'd With Combes of Hony wherewithall I fed My lips and thine And now my Riddle 's read MEDITAT 12. THe soule of man before the taint of Nature Bore the faire Image of his great Creator His understanding had no cloud His will No crosse That knew no Error This no ill But man transgrest And by his wofull fall Lost that faire Image and that little all Was left was all corrupt His understanding Exchang'd her object Reason left commanding His Memory was depraved and his will Can finde no other subject now but Ill It grew distemperd left the righteous reine Of better Reason and did entertaine The rule of Passion under whose command It suffered Ship-wracke upon every Sand Where it should march it evermore retires And what is most forbid it most desires Love makes it see too much and often blinde Doubt makes it light and waver like the winde Hate makes it fierce and studious Anger mad Ioy makes it carelesse Sorrow dull
To give a satisfaction answerable To her unbounded wishes leaves a thrist Of reenjoyment greater then the first Lord When our fruitlesse fallowes are growne cold And out of heart we can inrich the mould With a new heate we can restore againe Her weakned soile and make it apt for graine And wilt thou suffer our faint soules to lie Thus unmanur'd that is thy Husbandrie They beare no other bulke but idle weedes Alas they have no heart no heate Thy seedes Are cast away untill thou please t' inspire New strength and quench them with thy sacred fire Stirre thou my Fallowes and enrich my mold And they shall bring thee ' increase a hundred fold SECT 21. ARGVMENT False Delila accosts her Lover Her lips endeavour to entice His gentle nature to discover His strength Samson deceives her thrice SOone as occasion lent our Champions eare To Delila which could not choose 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 locks somtimes would brai'd His long dishevell'd haire her eyes one while Would steale a glance upon his eyes and smile And then her crafty lips would speake 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 't is nothing in respect of thine Of having Wealth will rouze thy heart lesse friends Make thee a potent Master of thy Ends 'T will 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 and 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 Ladyes to refresh Thy drooping soule Hee '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 owne thoughts Hee 'l make thee beg and crave To be a drudge Hee 'l make thy trecherous breath Destroy thee and betray thee to thy death Lord if our Father Adam could not stay In his upright perfection one poore day 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 hast to helpe The Philistines are on us SECT 22. ARGVMENT She sues againe Samson replies The very truth Her lips betray him They binde him They put out his eyes And to the prison they convay him VVIth that the wanton whose distrustfull eye Was fixt upon reward made this replie Had the deniall of my poore request Proceeded from th' inexorable brest Of one whose open hatred sought t' endanger My haunted life Or had it bin a stranger That wanted so much nature to deny The doing of a common curtesie Nay had it bin a friend that had deceiv'd me An ordinary friend It nere had griev'd me But thou even thou my bosome friend that art The onely joy of my deceived heart Nay thou whose hony-dropping lips soloften Did plead thy undissembled love and soften My deare affection which could never yeeld To easier termes by thee to be beguild How often hast thou mockt my slender suite With forged falshoods Hadst thou but bin mute I nere had hop'd But being fairely led Towards my prompt desires which were fed With my false hopes and thy false-hearted tongue And then beguilde I hold it as a wronge How canst thou say thou lov'st me How can I Thinke but thou hat'st me when thy lips deny So poore a Suite Alas my fond desire Had slak'd had not deniall blowne the fire Grant then at last and let thy open brest Shew that thou lov'st me ' and grant my faire request Speake or speake not thy Delila shall give ore To urge her lips shall never urge thee more To whom the yeelding lover thus betrai'd His heart being tortur'd unto death and said My deare my Delila I cannot stand Against so sweet a pleader In thy hand I here entrust and to thy brest impart Thy Samsons life and secrets of his heart Know then my Delila that I was borne A Nazarite These locks were never shorne No Raisor yet came ere upon my crowne There lies my strength with thē my strength is gone Were they but shaven my Delila O then Thy Samson should be weake as other men No sooner had he spoken but he spred His body on the floore his drowzy head He pillow'd on her lap untill at last He fell into a sleepe and being fast She clipt his locks from off his carelesse head And beckning the Philistians in she said Samson awake Take strength and courage on thee Samson arise The Philistines are on thee Even as a Dove whose wings are clipt for flying Flutters her idle stumps and still relying Vpon her wonted refuge strives in vaine To quit her life from danger and attaine The freedome of her ayre-dividing plumes She struggles often and she oft presumes To take the sanctuary of the open fields But finding that her hopes are vaine she yeelds Even so poore Samson frighted at the sound That rowz'd him from his rest forsooke the ground Perceiving the Philistians there at hand To take him pris'ner he began to stand Vpon his wonted Guarde His threatning breath Brings forth the prologue to their following death He rowz'd himselfe and like a Lyon shooke His drowzy limmes and with a cloudy looke Fore-telling boystrous and tempestious weather Defied each one defied them all together Now when he came to grapple he upheav'd His mighty hand but now alas bereav'd Of wonted power that confounding arme That could no lesse then murther did no harme Blow was exchang'd for blow and wound for wound He that of late disdained to give ground Flies backe apace who lately stain'd the field With conquer'd blood does now begin to yeeld He that of late brake twisted Ropes in twaine Is bound with Pack thred He that did disdaine To feare the power of an Armed Band Can now walke prisoner in a single hand Thus have the trecherous Philistines betray'd Poore captive Samson Samson now obay'd Those glowing eyes that whitled death about Where ere they view'd their cursed hands put out They led him pris'ner and convai'd him downe To strong-wall'd Azza that Philistian towne Whose gates his shoulders lately bore away