SECOND SEMICHORUS. But he, though blind of sight, Despised, and thought extinguished quite, With inward eyes illuminated, His fiery virtue roused, From under ashes, into sudden flame, And as an evening dragon came, Assailant on the perchèd roosts, And nests in order ranged Of tame villatic fowl; but, as an eagle, His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads. So Virtue, given for lost, Depressed, and overthrown, as seemed, Like that self-begotten bird In the Arabian woods imbost, That no second knows nor third, And lay erewhile a holocaust, From out her ashy womb now teemed, Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most When most unactive deemed; And, though her body die, her fame survives A secular bird ages of lives. Man. Come, come; no time for lamentation now, Nor much more cause; Samson hath quit himself A life heroic; on his enemies Fully revenged, hath left them years of mourning, 1690 1700 1710 1720 Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail Or knock the breast; no weakness, no contempt; Dispraise, or blame; nothing but well and fair, Let us go find the body where it lies Soaked in his enemies' blood; and from the stream The clotted gore. I, with what speed the while Will send for all my kindred, all my friends, 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 palm, Oft he seems to hide his face, 1730 1740 But unexpectedly returns, 1750 And to his faithful champion hath in place Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns, And all that band them to resist His uncontrollable intent: His servants he, with new acquist Of true experience from this great event, With peace and consolation hath dismissed, |