MANOAH, the Father of Samfon.
The SCENE before the Prifon in Gaza.
Little onward lend thy guiding hand
To thefe dark steps, a little further on;
For yonder bank hath choice of fun or shade:
There I am wont to fit, when any chance
Relieves me from my task of servile toil,
Daily' in the common prison else injoin'd me,
Where I a prisoner chain'd, scarce freely draw
The air imprison'd also, close and damp,
Unwholesome draught: but here I feel amends,
The breath of Heav'n fresh blowing, pure and sweet,
With day-fpring born; here leave me to refpire. 11
This day a folemn feast the people hold
To Dagon their fea-idol, and forbid
Laborious works; unwillingly this rest
Their superstition yields me; hence with leave 15
Retiring from the popular noise, I seek
This unfrequented place to find some ease,
Eafe to the body fome, none to the mind
From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm
Of hornets arm'd, no fooner found alone,
But rush upon me thronging, and prefent
Times past, what once I was, and what am now.
O wherefore was my birth from Heav'n foretold
Twice by an Angel, who at last in sight
Of both my parents all in flames ascended
From off the altar, where an offering burn'd,
As in a fiery column charioting
His god-like presence, and from some
Or benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race?
Why was my breeding order'd and prefcrib'd 30 As of a person separate to God,
Design'd for great exploits; if I must die
Betray'd, captiv'd, and both my eyes put out,
Made of my enemies the fcorn and gaze;
To grind in brazen fetters under task
With this Heav'n-gifted ftrength? O glorious frength Put to the labor of a beast, debas'd
Lower than bondflave! Promise was that I
Should Ifrael from Philistian yoke deliver;
Afk for this great deliverer now, and find him 40
Eyelefs in Gaza at the mill with flaves,
Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke:
Yet stay, let me not rafhly call in doubt
Divine prediction; what if all foretold
Had been fulfill'd but through mine own default, 45
Whom have I to complain of but myself?
Who this high gift of ftrength committed to me,
In what part lodg'd, how eafily bereft me,
Under the feal of filence could not keep,
But weakly to a woman must reveal it,
O'ercome with importunity and tears.
O impotence of mind, in body strong!
But what is ftrength without a double share
Of wisdom, vaft, unwieldy, burdenfome,
Proudly fecure, yet liable to fall
By weakest subtleties, not made to rule,
But to fubferve where wisdom bears command!
God, when he gave me ftrength, to fhow withal
How flight the gift was, hung it in my hair.
But peace, I must not quarrel with the will
Of highest difpenfation, which herein
Haply had ends above my reach to know:
Suffices that to me ftrength is my bane,
And proves the fource of all my miseries;
So many, and fo huge, that each apart
Would ask a life to wail, but chief of all,
O loss of fight, of thee I most complain!
Blind among enemies, O worse than chains,
Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age!
Light the prime work of God to me' is extinct, 70 And all her various objects of delight
Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eas'd,
Inferior to the vileft now become
Of man or worm; the vileft here excel me,
They creep, yet see, I dark in light expos'd
To daily fraud, contempt, abuse and wrong,
Within doors, or without, ftill as a fool,
In pow'r of others, never in my own;
Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half.
O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,
Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse
Without all hope of day!
O firft created Beam, and thou great Word,
Let there be light, and light was over all;
Why am I thus bereav'd thy prime decree?
The fun to me is dark
And filent as the moon,
She all in every part; why was the fight
To fuch a tender ball as th' eye confin'd,
So obvious and fo cafy to be quench'd?
And not as feeling through all parts diffus'd,
That fhe might look at will through every pore?
Then had I not been thus exil'd from light,
As in the land of darkness yet in light,
To live a life half dead, a living death,
And bury'd; but O yet more miserable!
Myself, my fepulchre, a moving grave,
Bury'd, yet not exempt
By privilege of death and burial
From worft of other evils, pains and wrongs, 105
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