SAMSON, OR THE Unhappy Lover. A POEM.  
By Gerard De Gols, T. C. C. S.  
LONDON, Printed for Robert Battersby at Staple-Inn-Gate near the Barrs in Holbourn, 1696.   

To my Honoured Brother, Philip De Gols, Gent.  
SIR,  
I Have for some time waited to express my Respects unto you, but having had nothing worthy, I have hitherto stood out; nor do I presume now to build my Security on Merits; but since kind Heaven has designed you for my Maecenas, I kneel at You the Shrine, and offer up the Unhappy SAMSON unto You, unhappy indeed, deluded by them tempting Women, than still imitating the first Delusion: Nor truly, tho' it is a long time since, do I think it is out of Date, or that the Ladies have forgot it, (the less the more pity;) Or there is no sign for it yet. But I would not have the Ladies think hard of me, because I pity poor SAMSON's Case, and his Mistress' Infidelity; not that I suppose all Ladies Faithful alike neither. But why do I Carp at the Ladies? those tender, soft, sweet, harmless Creatures. Sure, as to outward Appearance, there can't be much harm in that Sex: But stay, and since SIR You admire 'em too, I shan't speak against them, but only court your Condescension to accept this: And I could wish that it was worthy You, who Fortune and Nature conspiring, have made you the happiest Man: Fortune gave Quality, Nature Generosity, Wit, and all Virtuous Qualifications, whereby You are successful in the Hearts of the Fair, Obliging to all, esteemed beloved, adored by all; You, You alone, the Darling of Mankind. And these uncommon Endowments have all their Centre in Your Breast, unmixed with Vices to sullen Your Glory; But besides, Your Ingenuity so gently shown in Your softness of Poetry, seems to derive its Original from the sweetness of Your Disposition; and sure, Your Favour to, and acquaintance with Poetry, is so Great, that You alone deserve to claim the Laurel. I hope You will accept this, and that it may give You some Recreation in the Perusal; and so I beg leave to gratify my Ambition, to subscribe myself,  
Honoured BROTHER, Your humble, and obedient devoted Servant, Gerard De Gols, T. C. C. S.   

SAMSON, OR THE Unhappy Lover.  

SO God has wrought the Deed, now Ruins lay  
Where e'er Triumphant Israel cut their way;  
Whilst with his Strength th' Almighty led 'em on,  
Robbed other Nations, to give them the Throne:  
Protected them where e'er their Arms displayed,  
And Strengthened in a Clouds refreshing Shade▪  
Yes, in the Deserts, Health and Safety made.  
Now Pharaoh's might, with his bright Chariot's hurled,  
And sent beneath toth' Underwatty World:  
Where is his Power, God's People to Enslave?  
While Israel digged, they digged Pharaoh's Graye▪  
Sihon, with mighty Og, for Death decreed,  
And Median Kings, like Hecatombs did bleed▪  
Kings numberless, were vanquished all around,  
And Walls were rooted up by Trumpet Sound.  
Thus God destroyed, and with his powerful Hand  
Led Israel safe unto his promised Land:  
Now did the Wars and bloody Slaughters cease,  
Encircled with the hopes of Lasting Peace.  
But Ah! Where's Peace, when God the Javelin throws?  
The Peace with Canaan, Israel overthrows;  
To Idols now they run; Ah Joshuas Dead!  
They sacrifice to Baal, forget their God;  
Uncircumcised, they mix with Sacred Blood.  
Then God enraged, did Lighten every Flash,  
Brought burning Flames, and struck the Face  
With mighty Thunder, mixed of th' Universe.  
At stake their Honour and their Glory lay,  
For God had left 'em for Devourers Pray.  
The Heathen Monsters roul'd the Swelling Tide,  
Raging they came, and gaped Destruction wide:  
Israel then tattered in their rusty Steel,  
With broken Bows and Darts, they stoop and kneel;  
And from th' Almighty's Throne of Justice fly,  
And to his Mercy Seat for Pardon cry:  
God he hears Prayers, with Prayers we God may move,  
He stopped his Hand, was mindful of his Love.  
Here the Almighty, awful Majesty,  
Curbs his hot Wrath, he casts a pitying Eye,  
With Mercy moved, he could not see 'em Die;  
Tho' all their Glory was as't were intom'b,  
Tho' all their Honour was unwinged, unplumed:  
Tho' Moses, Joshua dead, their Friend's above,  
And Judges now shall more auspicious prove;  
Judges shall judge the Tribes, their Wars they'll wage,  
Destroy their Foes, and even with Death engage.   

Such was the mighty SAMSON, whose great Birth  
By Heavenly Choir was sung, twice told on Earth;  
Eager and Young, in th' valiant list he came,  
The God of War pushed on the Noble Game;  
In his Veins Blood, with eager Zeal would rise,  
His tender Cheeks did Glow, with Sparkling Eyes.  
War his first Mistress was, for War alone  
Designed by God, to fight for Israel's Crown:  
Great were th' Ideas of his Yet Young Soul,  
'Twas Honour, and Ambition all, War whole.  
Great were the Labours he'd already done,  
And now was called for Judge to Israel's Throne:  
A Nazarite by Birth, with eager Zeal  
To free his Nation, seek Revenge with Steel.  
And now ascending to the Judgement Seats,  
In Mighty Words his faithful Mind repeats:   

Thus Israel's God with Conquest crowns my Head,  
By fragrant Zeal, and true Devotion led,  
With mighty Victory my Foes I Slay,  
And Thousands by this Hand do vanquished lie  
Winged with Success, th' Philistines I invade,  
Philistines to all Ill, by me betrayed:  
Fields with their Carcases I covered o'er,  
And urge myself through Floods of Humane Gore.  
Inspired by Vengeance, still they'll feel my Arm,  
With spilling of their Blood, my Blood I'll warm:  
This Hand shall make 'em fear; I'll bring 'em low;  
Their dismal Ruins all on heaps I'll throw,  
Tho' they are stiff to kneel, too tall to bow:  
Yet on their Necks I'll set my lofty Throne,  
And place my Chariot with the Rising Sun.  
No Priest shall e'er here Baal's Altar load,  
No Fragrant Gums shall burn t'a barbarous God;  
No Heathen State shall for Alliance sue,  
Tho' Nations shall with Courting Friendship woe;  
No Crown with all its taudry tempting Pride,  
No Coronet shall ever move this Head;  
For God I fight; God shall reward the Deed.  
To nothing shall my fixed Soul give way,  
No Lust shall tempt, nor Wanton women's Eye:  
Women! (kind Heaven forbid!) tho' all her Gems,  
And beauteous Face, out shines th' Sun's Radiant Beams;  
I'll conquer sordid Lust, so vile, so foul:  
Ah wretched thought! too mean for my Great Soul;  
God's Nazarite I am, and Judge of Israel.  
Israel's Laws I'll write, and mark in Blood,  
And bear the Mandates of Great Jacobs God.   

Thus spoke the mighty Hero; at whose Word  
The Tribes astonished, drew their Warlike Sword:  
He with his Courage led the Glorious Train,  
To free 'em from the base Philistines Reign:  
And while he spoke, Fame did her Trumpet Sound,  
And flew with's mighty Name to all around.  
All Nations with a fearful Reverend Awe,  
Adored his Name, as Heaven revered him too;  
And in the Sky, on wavering Wings she hung,  
And his Great Deeds in moving Notes she sung.   

Blessed be the Hero, who Gods Quarrel takes,  
Oh Heaven! thy Wrongs his justest Vengeance wakes,  
Who ready strove, and strives, and e'er shall toil,  
To Conquer Philistines, to lead their Spoil:  
And whilst he lives, due Wrath shall swell his Soul.  
So have I seen him, when in Timnath's Plain,  
A Lion roared, unto whose Breast he ran,  
And rend his hardened Flesh with's Hands alone.  
And thirty Men at Askelon he threw,  
Brought forth their Spoil, and sent 'em down Below,  
So deep to Hell, as to Heaven his Fame does Go.  
Here Samson, Zorah shall thy Deeds proclaim,  
And sing thy Matchless everliving Fame;  
While Brands with Foxes, as your Ensigns fly,  
And Olives, Corn do burn, before your Eye,  
And make the Vineyards as the Deserts lie.  
He roused again by Wrongs, his Sword he draws,  
And weds his Mighty Hand to a spotless Cause:  
Now the Great SAMSON, he could hold no more,  
Here his winged Wrath, his flaming Lightning bore;  
He Crushed, and Conquered, filled the Fields with Gore.  
A while the Labours of our Hero stay,  
While he fixed Grounds, for Glorious Triumphs lay,  
To Etams Rock he's gone, to bring the Day.  
No, the Great SAMSON cannot take his Rest;  
No little time for him's in Halcyons Nest:  
Philistines Wrath again him, cause Affords,  
Judah betrays him, bind his Hands with Cords;  
And in Philistines Camp they SAMSON lead,  
Unhappy SAMSON! now ordained to bleed.  
Great was the Choir, and long Tuned was their Joy,  
Their Shouts were Mighty, up to Heaven they fly,  
With Trumpets, Cymbals, sung the Victory.  
Thus tied and bound, the Mighty SAMSON stood,  
His mighty Hand still by his Courage led,  
He wrung his Arms, and straight the People fled.  
His Hands he did unfold, he broke the Cords,  
His Foes he did pursue, his Rival Lords:  
An Ass' Jawbone from the Ground he took,  
His Foes the Great Philistines, than he struck;  
With mighty Slaughter and Confusion Grew,  
With loud Alarms the fearful People Flew,  
So loud, so dismal Cry, did e'er where Roul,  
As caused Amazement into every Soul;  
Heaven itself as an Admirer stood,  
Grew Pale to see his Hands so stained in Blood.  
While he with Conquest winged, and thus inspired,  
Pursues his haughty Foes, with Zeal untired;  
Pushed on their Fates to th' utmost point of War,  
Nor thought he could have scattered Death too far,  
While Thousand Souls cried Vengeance through the Air.   

Thus sung the Goddess, but confined She was  
To Numbers; his great Deeds were Numberless:  
Then straight She flew, t' assail the lofty Sky,  
While her aspiring labouring Thoughts let fly,  
These Words she left, and then she flew away.   

Religion is his great Ambitious Aim,  
No Object of a tempting Lustful Flame;  
No Love shall ever clasp him in her Arms,  
No Love shall move, endeared with Thousand Charms:  
No Beauty ever, with its kill Eyes,  
Shall cause his Soul a Bleeding Sacrifice.   

This Cupid heard, who from his Throne above,  
'Twixt Heaven and Earth, did on his Pinions move;  
Pampered with Pride, with powerful Lust was fed,  
With Envy burned, and with Ambition led:  
Enraged, his Blood did boil, and wrung his Hands,  
And cried, Not Heaven denys my Great Commands:  
And shall a Mortal here my Strength despise?  
Tho' he be great, his Name to Heaven does rise;  
Yet I've in Heaven my Throne, fixed far above,  
Where mortal Reach, aspiring Thought can move.  
And shall my Glory thus abused lie?  
My Name thus scorned, and I a Mortals Play?  
Or what extravagant Thought dares soar so high!  
As to dispute my World's Supremacy?  
Or who does dare deny me, Heaven too?  
In Heaven, or Earth, I will no room afford,  
Nor Hell itself shall boast a Rival Lord.  
Who dares behold, and face me unadored!  
By this my Dart, all hardened Hearts shall bleed,  
I'll vanquish Triumph, all to Love I'll lead,  
Even SAMSONS Heart's for Sacrifice decreed.  
Tho' he rejects a thousand Amorous Charms,  
Or vilifies Love's tender sacred Arms.  
Yet here's his Fate, he shall to love obey,  
His haughty Soul I will in Ruins lay:  
How dares a Mortal scorn a Deity?  
Tho' Cords can't bind, no Chains his hands can close,  
Tho' with his naked hands he a Lion throws.  
On heaps casts Men, a Thousand at a Blow,  
Yet one poor Dart sent from my mighty Bow,  
Shall melt his Heart, and love alone he'll bear,  
And be as great in Love as he is in War:  
No Thought but Love shall ever reach his Mind,  
Through Love, with Love, like Love, he shall be blind.   

Thus spoke the mighty Love, and strait he fled,  
In's hand his Bow, on's side his Quiver laid:  
To Gaza than he flew, whereas he passed,  
On a Notorious Fair his Eyes he cast:  
Then spoke the God, This shall the Conqueress be,  
And she shall lead Great SAMSONS Soul astray;  
Then eager in his Thoughts, his Mind inspired,  
And with an ardent Soul her Heart he fired:  
And Flaming Javelins in her Breast he threw,  
Yes, common sordid Lust he gave her too.  
Here Our Great Heroe's Soul does him invite,  
At Gaza now to show, his wondrous Might,  
His Name must greater be, his Trophies infinite,  
But SAMSON, stay, Ah! Whither do you run?  
From Gaza flee, Ah! Love is in the Town;  
Love seeks your heart, will rob you of your Crown.   

Mean time, when Samson's noble Thoughts were high,  
And thought on Slaughters, Battles in the Way;  
When all his Mind was only Victory,  
Love see the Warlike Hero as he came,  
And in his Eyes moved first a gentle Flame;  
Then in his Mind he kindled a soft heat,  
Th' Idea of his Soul waxed all Delight;  
At last he farther tried the Noble Guest,  
He drew, and shot a Dart into his Breast.  
Now gently, the fierce Monarch grew more kind,  
And all his Strength was whole for Love designed;  
On Women thinks, and throws the Jaw away,  
And nought but women's Heart shall be his Prey.   

At Gaza, mighty Samson he arrives,  
He knows not whether he be dead, or lives;  
His Mind is Roving, thinking on soft Charms,  
He wished him Blest, clasped round in Lovers Arms:  
And thus, whilst labouring with these Thoughts oppressed,  
His Eye, then Wanton Eye, spied room for Rest.  
What must poor Samson do? his Heart does burn,  
Love does him draw, from Gaza he can't turn;  
He'll venture on, and to the Fair One fly,  
Bless the short Night, and love th' Sun shall stay.  
Away he goes, wrapped with love's Dearest Charms,  
Loses the Night within her tender Arms;  
But still his Soul is labouring with a Care,  
He cannot rest, Ah, he's come too far!  
So Faults with Sweets endeared, yet Tortures bear.  
His Thoughts did tell him, how Philistines laid,  
And watched to Murder him, even as they did;  
His very Soul did cry, You are betrayed.  
Then from his Sleep and Slumb'rings he did rise,  
He see all Dark, no sprinkling Stars i'th' Skies;  
All things were hushed, no little Birds repair,  
No Murmuring Notes do sound through th' dusky Air:  
All Nature sleeps, yes, wakes he and his Foe,  
He dares not stay, he must, yes, he will go;  
He went, and like a Martial Eagle flew:  
No Thunder from the Skies so swift ere rod,  
And carried Vengeance from the angry God.  
In vain they Watch, in vain with hopes they Feed,  
In vain their Arms, and all their Snares are spread;  
Wings on his Feet, and Lightning in his Eyes,  
By Fears and Hopes, and with his wrath he flies:  
Not Lucifer's Armado could engage  
The Glorious Michael with more hellish Rage,  
Both by his Wishes, and hot Blood inspired,  
Thundered when ere he Breathed, and when he looked he fired.  
The City Gates at length our Samson spies,  
He see the Watch, he thought himself the Prize;  
The Gates were shut, the Guards stood all about,  
Now Courage leads his vigorous Arm, he stout,  
Does urge himself through Death; and as he flew,  
He clasped the Gates, and took the Pillars too,  
With Posts and Barrs, he on his Shoulders threw:  
And left the Guard astonished at the Sight,  
Fear shaken their Limbs, more dreadful the Night.  
Away he fled to Hebron; now he Goes,  
He leaves on th' Hill his Load, and mocks his Foes.  
His Thoughts did swell with dangerous Amorous Care,  
He'll never more encounter in that War.  
His Mind was heavy; how th' Almighty Power  
Which he'd abused, forgot should help him more;  
No more by Heaven, he swears, that Wanton Pride,  
Nor Woman's Eyes shall call his Soul aside;  
He scorns to see an Amorous Lustful Bride.   

But stay, the God of Love, his Fall will cause,  
No War lies in his Breast; he lives in Peace,  
The fairer time to conquer him with ease,  
Your Fate is firm, yourself Oh Samson's Snare,  
Lest Love destroys you quite, with wanton Air,  
And burn you more than with Promethean Fire.   

But see, Great Samson's Mind is still in Love,  
He tugs with Charms, those Sweets he cannot leave;  
Those pleasant Thoughts he can't again possess,  
Those sacred Bonds of humble innocent Peace;  
Still he does Labour in his Royal Mind,  
His Will, and yet his Oath, cannot be joined;  
He would, but dares not now to Gaza Go,  
He'll go another way, those Charms to flee;  
To Zoreck he will run, sure there's no Love,  
He bids the Wind those wretched Thoughts remove:  
Yes, Samson yes! at Zoreck there is Love,  
Ah! see it does not to you fatal prove.  
God Cupid for you Snares, there too has laid,  
And shot the heart of every tender Maid;  
To Zoreck now he goes, with Thoughts oppressed,  
He fears lest cursed Love should fire his Breast;  
And he again Despise, forget his God,  
Deep labouring Cares do vex his drooping Head:  
Still on he Goes, and to the place draws nigh,  
Nor had he long cast round his dazzled Eye;  
But see Delilah, as she passed by:  
Neat was her Shape, and gentle was her Mien,  
Her Face was Charming Fair, no Spot was seen;  
Like Stars i'th' Firmament did shine her Eye,  
More Amorous Flames than burning Comets show:  
Would fire Mortals, and to love them frame,  
Yes, Hearts more fierce than Lions gently tame.   

Then Cupid shook his Wings; and from above,  
On his poor Breast, threw wretched drops of Love:  
Love Courage gave, to Love he did prepare,  
And Love now cures all his uneasy Care;  
Where e'er she goes, still follows Samson on,  
Her lovely Mien, and glorious Face drew on,  
The Eyes and Heart of our great Champion.  
Here he does act a Real Lover's part,  
Expresses lively to her Soul his Heart,  
Till she with him did sympathise the Smart.  
Again the Hero, Oh unhappy sight!  
In beauteous Masques, and wanton Balls delight,  
And with their Sports they lose the Amorous Night.   

Then God enraged, and Wrath his Hand did move,  
His lightning Flashed, sent Thunder from above;  
Black Night cloaked Heaven o'er, Earthquakes he made▪  
And Desolation was by is Nodding laid:  
No Stars did in the Firmament appear,  
They silent were, and hid themselves for fear.  
Then God arose, and his long Silence broke,  
And with his mighty Voice from Heaven he spoke:  
How dares a mortal Worm thus raise his Head?  
How dares he thus despise, forget his God?  
I ever Living God, Great Majesty,  
Who governs Heaven and Earth, who gives the Day,  
And sends the Night; by this my Hand alone,  
I raised the heavens, the Earthly Bull laid down,  
I'm God alone, who dares dispute my Crown?  
I moved with Love, created Human Kind,  
In's Face I placed the Image of my Mind;  
Gave him what Heaven and Earth e'er could afford,  
Of the whole Universe I made him Lord:  
But strait the cursed Man rebellious grew,  
He sinned against me, and despised me too.  
Still pity moved my Breast, and I again  
The wretched Mortals gave a second Reign;  
Abraham's Seed I for my Darling chose,  
Where e'er he trod, there was he blest in Joys:  
How many Nations have I for him slain?  
Pulled down their Thrones, and caused them to Reign.  
Ungrateful Israel, the more I bless,  
Still the more stubborn they, they prise the less;  
Here now my Judge, my Samson, who I loved,  
With who I was with dear Compassion moved,  
Forgets me quite, his Glory he pulls down,  
And wastes my Image, making of his own;  
Forgets his God, to Women he gives ear,  
Once I already freed him from that care,  
When he at Gaza was, but now no more;  
Tho' he should pray, I heard his Prayers before.  
A thousand fatal Hardships this shall prove,  
I'll leave him quite, let him go on in Love;  
As he did me, I will forget him now,  
I'll not regard his Cries, as he his Vow:  
I swear, an't shall be true, he his Reward shall have,  
And with this Love he'll find himself a Grave.   

Thus the Almighty God in Anger spoke,  
His thundering Voice the crystalline did shake;  
Earthquakes were raised, the Sea tempestuous grew,  
Leviathan stretched the Billows as he flew,  
And Hurricanes around the Mountains blew:  
Dismal the Noise, and horrid was the Sound,  
The Winds still bursted as they touched the Ground;  
All things conspired, as't were to lose their hold,  
And bring Confusion dreadful, as of Old.  
This Samson heard, dread Terror struck his Soul,  
Amazement struck him Dumb, like Dead, so Foul  
With wretched Sin, Ah! Samson now does hide  
His Face, ashamed of what he lately did,  
Ashamed of what no one did know beside.  
So Sin toth' Conscience bears a horrid sting,  
And thinks each whistling Wind revenge does bring;  
Now Samson's struck by God, how fain he'd quit  
Those foolish Joys, be blessed in God's sight.  
What must poor Samson do? Alas! he's dead,  
He thinks, if he does come again to God,  
And if in sin he stays, he'll still increase  
His cursed Crime, sure then can hope no Peace.  
But God has left him now, his Strength's too weak,  
Those Bonds by Cupid tied, he cannot break;  
Those Love-tyes tie too fast; Ah wretched Man!  
Philistines know you're here, they seek again.  
Oh! Samson you'll be tried, keep the Secret given,  
And Oh! let no one know, but you and Heaven.   

Now Samson slumbering, eased his mighty Cares,  
Love has its Toils, as well as labouring Wars;  
Philistine Princes came, and Dow'rs they bring,  
Sure Baits for an unguarded Heart to fling:  
They will reward Delilah, if she knew  
What mighty Samsons Force could stay, and how?  
All things may fix, but none more surer hold,  
Than what is made byth' well-tried magic Gold.  
She's Charmed, and willing th' Hero betray,  
And now she'll only strive for Victory.   

Now had soft Sleep yet left his drowsy Eyes,  
And he Enjoyed a gentle slumbering Ease;  
But then the Delilah with her Amorous 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 loath to tell his anxious Mind;  
Thinks this a sin again; Ah! he doubts now,  
If any thing he'll tell, or false, or true:  
At last Green Withs, he says, around me tie,  
Will tame my Strength, and all my Power stay.  
So Samson spoke, with Withs his hand she tied,  
(And Watchmen Armed she in her Chamber hid,)  
Philistines over thee, Delilah cried.  
Then Samson rose, for God was not yet gone,  
The Withs he brake, strait when his hands he wrung.  
Again Delilah, she does not yet know,  
Again she'll 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 used, may bow;  
And stay my Force. Delilah then she tried,  
But found that vain, she found she was belied.  
Yet once more Delilah will try with Words,  
Deluding Words may bind more strong than Cords:  
Oh Samson! how can e'er thy Bosom bear,  
To hear my Cries, and not regard my Prayer;  
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 wove;  
Will stay my Power; Oh Samson save your Head!  
See what you do, you are almost betrayed.  
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 Heaven forbid, you should yourself betray.  
Then Delilah his Hair did tie to a Pin,  
And fastened to a Beam; Alas all vain!  
He rose, and see, he broke the hold again.  
Then Delilah her Heart was grieved, she sued,  
She wept, and with her Tears she Samson wooed;  
Cold trickling Tears on her fair Cheeks did roll,  
In Sighs revealed 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 swore?  
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 Heaven? mine other it;  
Oh that I knew what could complete thy Bliss!  
With Words and Sighs, and Kisses I'd relate;  
Surely, this is no Love, but sign of Hate:  
This only thing you from my Soul do hide,  
As Heaven is true, and I your faithful Bride,  
The Secret I will keep, and none shall know beside.   

Now Samson's moved, his Heart does melt away,  
Who can deny, when whining Women pray?  
His very Soul was grieved to hear her Sigh,  
With open Heart unto her Arms he'll fly,  
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 yourself, and Sorrow wear,  
Am I not Samson, your Beloved here?  
The Secret you shall know, to you I'll tell,  
What e'er my Heart does know, you'll know it all:  
I am a Nazarite, by God decreed,  
No Razor ever touched my rigid Head;  
My Hair was never cut; and if it be,  
My Strength departs, and all my Powers flee;  
My Hands are weak, unfit for Victory.  
Now she rejoiced, and now he's e'en betrayed,  
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 shaved 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 strait 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 entice, and then she'll wound:  
A heart deserving more, his Doom than his,  
His Crimes are here outdone, 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 rejoice,  
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 through the hollow Skies the Echo rung;  
And Samson too, they to the Altar bring.  
They bind and tie 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 closed 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 sat,  
And thus in Tears bewailed his Wretched Fate.   

Unhappy me! deprived of all what's good,  
My Joys are gone, and all my Pleasure fled;  
My Hopes are snatched, for I am left by God.  
In Dungeons here, in Fetters bound I lie,  
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 Deathlike Sleep.  
O loss of Sight! for thee I pine away,  
Eclipse Eternal, and no hopes of Day;  
No hopes of Light!  
Among Inhuman Foes at Gaza's Mill,  
Labours more hard than all the Pangs of Hell:  
At Gaza's Mill I grind, my Foes a Slave,  
Unhappy me, my Tomb, myself my Grave.  
Oh! had I never seen that tempting Fair,  
Herd those deluding Words, or see that Air;  
Oh! had I never seen those Eyes, that mighty Light,  
Which blinded me, and dimmed me more than Night;  
Night hopes for Day, but I can't hope for Sight:  
I'd not forgot, no not despised my God,  
In Glory I had lived, enjoyed 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;  
Heaven 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'll rouse my Head;  
And with my Prayers I'll break quite through the Air,  
Until my Prayers shall reach the Almightys Ear.  
Thus Samson spoke, and Sighing, down he lay,  
His Griefs were many, and his Sorrows true;  
Grief vexed his Breast, he could no longer Cry,  
But in deep Sighs, his Soul would Pardon pray.   

Now Princes joined again, they th' People call,  
To Celebrate another Festival,  
To sing to Dagon our Great Champions Fall.  
Samson is called for, he must be their Play,  
He's struck at's Work, and mocked at all the Day;  
Betwixt the Pillars, he does stand for public View.   

Once more he'll try if Prayers aught can move,  
He'll 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,  
Whilst living he adored, her still embraced,  
And in his dying Pangs he'll hold her fast.  
Now he's in hopes that God has cast an Eye;  
An Eye of Pity reconciled him too;  
He grasped the mighty Pillars where he stood,  
Joined in his Prayers, with all his Strength he bowed,  
And overthrew the House, a fatal Fall,  
Whilst in confusion many a thousand Soul:  
In their own Sables, hellish black Arrayed,  
Were hurled headlong to the Eternal Shade.  
Whilst our Great Hero in a Chariot rod,  
And shook the Crystalline where ere he trod;  
To Heaven he flies, where waiting Angels stayed,  
Prepared his Throne, prepared his Diadem laid:  
Fragrant he came, with Vengeance of his Foes,  
As Radiant as the Sun, to Heaven he goes.  
With fresh Repentance, Newborn 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 flies.   
FINIS.   

ADVERTISEMENTS.  
SYlvia's Revenge, Or a satire against MAN, in Answer to the satire against WOMAN. The Second Edition.  
SYlvia's Complaint of her Sex's Unhappiness. A Poem. Being the Second Part of Sylvia's Revenge, or a satire against MAN. To which is added, the Emulation, a Pindaric ODE. The Second Edition.  
Both Printed for Robert Battersby at Staple-Inn Gate near the Barrs in Holbourn.