Selected quad for the lemma: truth_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
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A37450
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Samson, or, The unhappy lover a poem / by Gerard De Gols.
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De Gols, Gerard.
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1696
(1696)
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Wing D856A; ESTC R27854
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10,819
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30
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mighty Samsons Force could stay and how All things may fix but none more surer hold Than what is made by 'th well-try'd magick Gold She 's Charm'd and willing th' Heroe betray And now she 'l only strive for Victory Now had soft Sleep yet left his drowsy Eyes And he Injoy'd a gentle slumb'ring Ease But then the Delilah with her Am'rous Charms Encircled him around with tender Arms And swears by Baal her God may Curses fall And in her Breast be all the Plagues of Hell All Tortures ever thought she will be true May she but only that great Secret know His mighty Strength and what his hand may bind Yet Samson's loth to tell his anxious Mind Thinks this a sin again Ah! he doubts now If any thing he 'l tell or false or true At last Green Wit hs he says around me tye Will tame my Strength and all my Pow'r stay So Samson spake with Wit hs his hand she ty'd And Watchmen Arm'd she in her Chamber hid Philistines over thee Delilah cry'd Then Samson rose for God was not yet gone The Wit hs he brake straight when his hands he wrung Again Delilah she does not yet know Again she 'l try what kinder Words may do Kind Words says she may move a stony Heart Now Samson say Why should you False impart For Truth resolve the Question let me know New Ropes says Samson never us'd may bow And stay my Force Delilah then she try'd But found that vain she found she was bely'd Yet once more Delilah will try with Words Deluding Words may bind more strong than Cords Oh Samson how can e're thy Bosom bear To hear my Cryes and not regard my Pray'r I pray if ought you care if ought you love If any dearment can your Passion move Dear Soul I pray let me no longer crave If seven of my Locks with a Web you weave Will stay my Pow'r Oh Samson save your Head See what you do you are almost betray'd Let not her moving Words gain you too far Oh! don't reveal the Secret of your Hair God s not yet gone who knows but he may stay Kind Heav'n forbid you should your self betray Then Delilah his Hair did tye to a Pin And fastned to a Beam Alas all vain He rose and see he broke the hold again Then Delilah her Heart was griev'd she su'd She wept and with her Tears she Samson woo'd Cold trickling Tears on her fair Cheeks did roul In Sighs reveal'd the Sorrow of her Soul How can you say you love me Samson say When you still mock and keep me for your Play Where is that Love which you so oft did sware Ah! where 's the Passion which for me you bear And your Heart from me still yes tho' I cry And beg in Tears you mock me still all day Is this your Love kind Heav'n mine other it Oh that I knew what could compleat thy Bliss With Words and Sighs and Kisses I 'de relate Surely this is no Love but sign of Hate This only thing you from my Soul do hide As Heav'n is true and I your faithful Bride The Secret I will keep and none shall know beside Now Samson's mov'd his Heart does melt away Who can deny when whining Women pray His very Soul was griev'd to hear her Sigh With open Heart unto her Arms he 'l flye Reveal the Secret now tho' he should die My Dear Ah! do not grieve too much arise And wipe the trickling Tears from your Bright Eyes Why should you vex your self and Sorrow wear Am I not Samson your Beloved here The Secret you shall know to you I 'le tell What e're my Heart does know you 'l know it all I am a Nazarite by God decreed No Razor ever touch't my rigid Head My Hair was never cut and if it be My Strength departs and all my Pow'rs flee My Hands are weak unfit for Victory Now she rejoyc'd and now he 's e'ne betray'd While Samson on her Knees himself had laid To take a little Rest a soft Repose Delilah sent for th' Princes Samson's Foes And in her hand his rigid Hair she had Whilst others with a Razor shav'd his Head Arise Great Samson rise but Ah too late See now the Secret of your faithful Bride Bewail not her bewail your dismal Fate Philistines over you Then straight he rose But Ah! his Strength was fled he see his Foes He thought as ever now to wrest him free But now God's gone he 's in Captivity Th' unhappy cause of Love now Samson found Her heart does first intice and then she 'll wound A heart deserving more his Doom then his His Crimes are here out-done by her Victories Here all the depth of Love he finds all Air Her Vows her Frowns all Blood her Smiles all snare Samson he 's conquered Ah! what must he do Alas to Dungeons Prisons he must go While 's Enemies are glad and do rejoyce And fill the Air with a victorious Voice Their Altars now they load Dagon he too For this mistaken Conquest has his due Philistines they so loud their Dagon sung Till thro' the hollow Skies the Echo rung And Samson too they to the Altar bring They bind and tye him fast put out his Light And leave the Body Dark as blackest Night And to their Dagon offer up his Sight To Gaza they poor Samson led Ah! there In dismal Dungeons cast must Shackles wear In Fetters clos'd he lives Oh! might he live In Peace and Quiet and his sad Fate there grieve Oh! no hard Labours now he undergoes Blind in a Mill he Grinds is struck by 's Foes Where as to rest himself a while he sate And thus in Tears bewail'd his Wretched Fate Vnhappy me depriv'd of all what 's good My Joys are gone and all my Pleasure fled My Hopes are snatch't for I am left by God In Dungeons here in Fetters bound I lye Oh that I were so happy as to Die My Feet with Chains are torn I Shackles bear Am desolate my very Life I fear But most unhappy yet in Darkness creep Blind Eyeless Dark as Night or Death-like Sleep O loss of Sight for thee I pine away Eclipse Eternal and no hopes of Day No hopes of Light Among Inhumane Foes at Gaza's Mill Labours more hard than all the Pangs of Hell At Gaza's Mill I grind my Foes a Slave Vnhappy me my Tomb my self my Grave Oh! had I never seen that tempting Fair Heard those deluding Words or see that Air Oh! had I never seen those Eyes that mighty Light Which blinded me and dim'd me more than Night Night hopes for Day but I can't hope for Sight I 'd not forgot no not despis'd my God In Glory I had liv'd injoy'd all Good What must I do my God I did displease Oh that he was my Friend All my Enemies Were Chaff unto my Hands I 'd draw my Sword And in the Dust with Blood their Fates record But he is fled to who now must I fly I dare not rise and him for Pardon Pray Heav'n against me 's shut no Grace is left For wretched me of all my Joys bereft Yet I will rise tho' Thunder strikes me dead And Lightning blasts my Soul I 'le rouze my Head And with my Pray'rs I 'le break quite thro' the Air Vntil my Pray'rs shall reach the Almightys Ear. Thus Samson spake and Sighing down he lay His Griefs were many and his Sorrows true Grief vext his Breast he could no longer Cry But in deep Sighs his Soul would Pardon pray Now Princes join'd again they th' People call To Celebrate another Festival To sing to Dagon our Great Champions Fall Samson is call'd for he must be their Play He 's struck at 's Work and mock't at all the Day Betwixt the Pillars he does stand for publick View Once more he 'l try if Pray'rs ought can move He 'l pray once more for Vengeance from above All he desires is Death that he might have One Blow and give himself and 's Foes a Grave War his true Friend he prays may leave him last VVhilst living he ador'd her still imbrac'd And in his dying Pangs he 'l hold her fast Now he 's in hopes that God has cast an Eye An Eye of Pity reconcil'd him too He grasp'd the mighty Pillars where he stood Joyn'd in his Pray'rs with all his Strength he bow'd And over-threw the House a fatal Fall VVhilst in confusion many a thousand Soul In their own Sables hellish black Array'd VVere hurl'd headlong to the Eternal Shade VVhilst our Great Heroe in a Chariot rod And shook the Christaline where e're he trod To Heav'n he flyes where waiting Angels stay'd Prepar'd his Throne prepar'd his Diadem laid Fragrant he came with Vengeance of his Foes As Radient as the Sun to Heav'n he goes VVith fresh Repentance New-born now he came No Spot is on his Breast a sacred Flame Is Ardent in his Soul he sees the Joys Eternal Bliss is eager in his ways Now reconciled to his God he flyes FINIS ADVERTISEMENTS SYlvia's Revenge Or a Satyr against MAN in Answer to the Satyr against WOMAN The Second Edition SYlvia's Complaint of her Sexes Unhappiness A Poem Being the Second Part of Sylvia's Revenge or a Satyr against MAN To which is added the Emulation a Pindarique ODE The Second Edition Both Printed for Robert Battersby at Staple-Inn Gate near the Barrs in Holbourn