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But God, who caused a fountain at thy prayer

From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst to allay
After the brunt of battle, can as easy

Cause light again within thy eyes to spring,

Wherewith to serve him better than thou hast.

And I persuade me so; why else this strength
Miraculous yet remaining in those locks?
His might continues in thee not for nought,

Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus.

SAMSON.

All otherwise to me my thoughts portend;

590

That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light,

Nor the other light of life continue long,

But yield to double darkness nigh at hand:

So much I feel my genial spirits droop,

My hopes all flat, Nature within me seems
In all her functions weary of herself;
My race of glory run, and race of shame,
And I shall shortly be with them that rest.
MANOAH.

Believe not these suggestions, which proceed

Θεὸς δ', ὁ κρήνην ἐκ χθονὸς ξηρᾶς τὸ πρὶν
φλῦσαι κελεύσας, ἐκ μάχης κεκμηκότος

σοῦ προσκαλοῦντος, τήν τε σὴν δίψαν σβέσας,
ἄψοῤῥον αὖθις σοῖσιν ὀφθαλμοῖς τὸ φῶς
τάχ ̓ ἂν πορίζοι, τήν γε σὴν λειτουργίαν
ἔχειν ἀμείνω τοῦ παρελθόντος χρόνου
οὐδ ̓ ἔστ ̓ ἔμοιγε τοῖσδε μὴ πεποιθέναι.
τί γὰρ τόδ ̓ ἐν κόμαισι τερατώδες σθένος
ἔτ ̓ ἔστιν, εἰ μὴ τῆς Θεοῦ βουλῆς χάριν;
αὐτοῦ τὸ δῶρον, οὐ μάτην εἰργασμένου.
ΣΑΜΨΩΝ.

ἢ κάρτα τούτοις ἅπερ ἐγὼ μαντεύομαι
ἐναντιοῦται· νυκτὶ δὴ τῶνδ ̓ ὀμμάτων
ἄσπονδον εἶναι φῶς, τό τε ψυχῆς σέλας
διπλῷ τάχος βραχύβιον ἐκλείψειν σκότῳ·
τόσην ἀνίαν ὧδ ̓ ἄθυμος ᾐσθόμην
δύσελπις, ἡ φύσις τε, τῶν φρενών τροφὸς,
ἔδοξ ̓ ἀπειπεῖν ἐς τὸ πᾶν· ἃ δ ̓ ἤνυσα
κύδει προκόπτων, εἴτ ̓ ἐπ ̓ αἰσχύνην πεσὼν,
πρὸς τέρμ ̓ ἀφιγμέν', ἐν βραχεῖ κιχήσομαι
τοὺς ἐκ παλαιῶν ἡσυχάζοντας πόνων.

ΜΑΝΩΣ.

σὺ δ ̓ οὐκ ἂν ὀρθῶς τῶνδέ γ ̓ ἔννοιαν τρέφοις,

600

610

From anguish of the mind and humours black,

That mingle with thy fancy. I, however,

Must not omit a father's timely care

To prosecute the means of thy deliverance,

By ransom or how else. Mean while be calm,

And healing words from these thy friends admit.

SAMSON.

Oh! that torment should not be confined

To the body's wounds and sores,

With maladies innumerable,

In heart, head, breast, and reins;

But must secret passage find

To the inmost mind,

There exercise all his fierce accidents,

And on her purest spirits prey,

As on entrails, joints, and limbs,

With answerable pains, but more intense,

Though void of corporal sense.

My griefs not only pain me

As a lingering disease,

600

610

τὴν δηξιθύμων ἐκπεφυκυῖαν παθῶν
μελαγχόλων τε τῆς φρενὸς φαντασμάτων
ἐμοὶ δὲ δεῖ, λύτροισιν εἴτ ̓ ἄλλῳ τρόπῳ,
ἐλευθεροῦν σε, καιρίαν σπουδὴν πατρί
τὰ μὲν παρόντα στέρξον εὐκήλῳ φρενὶ,
δέχου δὲ μύθους τῶν φίλων θελκτηρίους.

ΣΑΜΨΩΝ.

φεύ, φεῦ,

τάδε μὴ 'ν κραδίαις καὶ

στήθεσι καὶ κεφαλαῖς μόναις πεσόντα

ἀνάριθμα μελῶν ἄχη,

ψυχᾶς βάθος ἄγνωστον

κρυφαίαις εἰσόδοις

ἐπελθεῖν,

ὅσ ̓ ἔνεστιν καθαρώτατα

στρεβλοῦντ ̓ αἰνοτάταις δύαις,
ὡς κατ ̓ ἄρθρα καὶ ἔντερα,
ἀλγίω δ ̓ ἔτι καρτερεῖν,
εἰ καὶ σώματος ἔξεδρα.

οὐδ ̓ ὀδύναις μόνον

ὡς χρονίας νόσου δέδηγμαι·

F

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But, finding no redress, ferment and rage;

Nor less than wounds immedicable

Rankle, and fester, and gangrene,

To black mortification,

Thoughts, my tormentors, armed with deadly stings,

Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts,

Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise

Dire inflammation, which no cooling herb

Or medicinal liquor can assuage,

Nor breath of vernal air from snowy Alp.

Sleep hath forsook and given me o'er

To death's benumbing opium as my only cure;

Thence faintings, swoonings of despair,

And sense of Heaven's desertion.

I was His nursling once, and choice delight,

His destined from the womb,

620

630

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