The Historie of Samson
THE
HISTORIE
OF
SAMSON:
Written By FRA: QUARLES. LONDON,
Printed by M. F. for JOHN MARRIOTT, in S. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet street.
1631.
LONDON,.
PUBLISHED BY M. F.
PUBLISHED FOR JOHN MARRIOTT
1631.
PUBLISHED BY M. F.
PUBLISHED FOR JOHN MARRIOTT
1631.
[Page 89]
1. MEDITAT. 15.
Dost thou not tremble? Does thy troubled eare
Not tingle? nor thy spirits faint to heare
The voice of those, whose dying shriekes proclame
Their tortures, that are broyling in the flame?
She, whose illustrious beauty did not know
Where to be matcht, but one poore houre agoe;
She, whose faire eyes were apt to make man erre
From his knowne faith, and turne Idolater;
She, whose faire cheeks, inricht with true cōplexion,
Seem'd beauties store-house of her best perfection;
See, how she lies, see how this beautie lies,
A foule offence, unto thy loathing eyes;
A fleshly Cinder, lying on the floore.
Starke naked, had it not bin cover'd ore
With bashfull ruines, which were fallen downe
From the consumed roofe, and rudely throwne
On this halfe-roasted earth. O, canst thou reade
Her double story, and thy heart not bleed?
What art thou more then she? Tell me wherein
Art thou more priviledg'd? Or can thy sinne
Plead more t'excuse it? Art thou faire and yong?
Why so was she: Were thy temptations strong?
[Page 90]
Why, so were hers: What canst thou plead, but she
Had powre to plead the same, as well as thee?
Nor was't her death alone, could satisfie
Revenge; her father, and his house must dye:
Unpunisht crimes doe often bring them in,
That were no lesse then strangers to the sinne:
Ely must dye; because his faire reproofe
Of too foule sinne, was not austere enough:
Was vengeance now appeas'd? Hath not the crime
Paid a sufficient Intrest for the time?
Remove thine eye to the Philistian fields;
See, what increase their fruitfull harvest yeelds:
There's nothing there, but a confused heape
Of ruinous ashes: There's no corne, to reape:
Behold the poyson of unpunisht sinne;
For which the very earth's accurst agin:
Famine must act her part; her griping hand,
For one mans sinne, must punish all the Land:
Is vengeance now appeas'd? Hath sinne given ore
To cry for plagues? Must vengeance yet have more?
O, now th'impartiall sword must come, and spill
The blood of such, as Famine could not kill:
The language of unpunisht sinne cryes loud,
It roares for Justice, and it must have blood:
Famine must follow, where the Fire begun;
The Sword must end, what both have left undone.
Just God; our sinnes doe dare thee to thy face;
[...] [...]6.
Our score is great; our Ephah fill's apace;
The leaden cover threatens, every minut,
To close the Ephah, and our sinnes, within it.
[Page 91]
Turne backe thine eye: Let not thine eye behold
Such vile pollutions: Let thy vengeance hold:
Looke on thy dying Sonne; There shalt thou spie
An Object, that's more fitter for thine eye;
His sufferings (Lord) are farre above our sinnes;
O, looke thou there; Ere Justice once begins
T'unsheathe her Sword, O, let one pretious drop
Fall from that pierced side; and that will stop
The eares of vengeance, from that clamorous voice
Of our loud sinnes, which make so great a noise;
O, send that drop, before Revenge begins,
And that will cry farre louder then our sinnes.