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Living or dying thou hast fulfillid
The work for which thou wast foretold
To Israel, and now ly'st victorious
Among thy slain felf-kill'd
Not willingly, but tangled in the fold

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Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd
Thee with thy laughter'd foes in number more
Than all thy life háth flain before. [fublime,

1 SEMICHOR. While their hearts were jocund and Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine, 1670 And fat regorg'd of bulls and

goats,
Chaunting their idol, and preferring
Before our living Dread who dwells
In Silo his bright fanctuary:
Among them he a spi'rit of phrenzy sent,
Who hurt their minds,
And urg'd them on with mad desire
To call in haste for their destroyer ;
They only set on sport and play
Unweetingly importun'd

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Their own destruction to come speedy upon them.
So fond are mortal men
Fall’n into wrath divine,
As their own ruin on themselves to invite,
Insensate left, or to sense reprobate,
And with blindness internal struck.

2 SEMICHOR. But he, though blind of light, Despis’d and thought extinguishod quite, With inward

eyes

illuminated, His fiery virtue rous'd

1690 From

1675

1685

1695

From under ashes into sudden flame,
And as an evening dragon came,
Assailant on the perched roofts,
And nests in order rang'd
Of tame villatic fowl; but as an eagle
His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads.
So virtue giv'n for lost,
Depress’d, and overthrown, as seem'd,
Like that self-begotten bird
In the Arabian woods imbost,

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That no second knows nor third,
And lay ere while a holocaust,
From out her ashy womb now teem'd,
Revives, reflorishes, then vigorous most
When most unacțive deem'd,

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And though her body die, her fame survive
A fecular bird ages of lives.

Man. Come, come, no time for lamentation now,
Nor much more cause; Samson hath quit himself
Like Samson, and heroicly hath finish'd

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A life heroic, on his enemies
Fully reveng'd, hath left them years of mourning,
And lamentation to the fons of Caphtor
Through all Philistian bounds, to Ifrael
Honor hath left, and freedom, let but them 1715
Find courage to lay hold on this occasion;
To' himself and father's house eternal fame;
And which is best and happiest yet, all this
With God not parted from him, as was fear'd,
But favoring and aftlifting to the end,

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Nothing

1

Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail
Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,
Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair
And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
Let us go find the body where it lies

1725 Sok'd in his enemies' blood, and from the stream With lavers pure and cleansing herbs wash off The clotted gore. I with what speed the while (Gaza is not in plight to say us nay) Will send for all my kindred, all

my friends,

1730 To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend With silent obsequy and funeral train Home to his father's house: there will I build him A monument, and plant it round with shade Of laurel ever green, and branching palnı, 1735 With all his trophies hung, and acts inrollid In copious legend, or sweet lyric song. Thither shall all the valiant youth resort, And from his memory inflame their breasts To matchless valor, and adventures high:

1740 The virgins also shall on feaftful days Visit his tomb with flowers, only bewailing His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice, From whence captivity and loss of eyes.

Cho. All is best, though we oft doubt, 1745 What th' unsearchable dispose Of highest wisdom brings about, And ever best found in the close. Oft he seems to hide his face, But unexpectedly returns,

1750 VOL. III,

F

And

And to his faithful champion hath in place
Borne witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns,
And all that band them to refift
His uncontrolable intent;
His servants he with new acquist

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Of true experience from this great event
With peace and consolation hath dismist,
And calm of mind, all pallion spent.

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Ρ Ο Ε Μ S

U PON

SEVERAL OCCASIONS,

COMPOSED AT SEVERAL TIMES,

BY

Mr. JOHN MILTON,

Baccare frontem “ Cingite, ne vati noceat mala lingua futuro."

VIRGIL, Eclog. vii.

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