Far off he wander'd, meditative, lone,

Musing stern deeds of vengeance all his own,
Or, burning with impatient hopes, began

To join his comrades in the camp of Dan.

Alas, he found no breast amid his peers

That shared his thoughts of glory. Crush'd by years Of craven flight, or grinding servitude,

The lion heart of Israel was subdued,

All save his own unconquerable will,

That wrestled on in prayer and trusted still.

Alone he went to Timnath, inly driven

But mark how fathomless the ways of Heaven!

There, as he lurk'd amid the laden vines,
He saw a daughter of the Philistines,

A virgin fair as light to look upon,

Who wander'd in the careless evening. One
She was, who, born of that accursed stock,
Grew as a heath-flower on the barren rock.

And Samson's spirit clave to hers; but when
He sought impetuously our home again,

And told us of her alien race and name,

The full heart of his mother glow'd with shame,

And sternly spake she : —

"Is there never one

Of all the daughters of our kin, my son,

Not one with whom in wedlock thou couldst dwell

Of all the far-famed maids of Israel,

That thou hast chosen out a stranger bride
From our uncircumcised foes?" He sigh'd,
And look'd to heaven in silence; not a shade
Of earthly passion on his dark cheek play'd,
But hopes of battle and of victory
Wrought in his soul and kindled in his eye,
Till, as he turn'd and look'd on us and smiled,
The parents' spirit quail'd before their child;
Or rather in that Presence he adored,
Though then we knew not, all was of the Lord.

I know it now, I know it: thou hast seen
The planets glide along their paths serene,
Diffusing softly their benignant light
Over the stillness of the summer night,
While steals from every pendant orb of gold
The music of their silence, - when behold
A meteor, with its dark forebodings blent,
Flames far athwart the troubled firmament,

And to the feeble ken of mortals mars

The changeless march and order of the stars;
But both, methinks, to His omniscient eye,
Who scans the cycles of eternity,

Pursue their destined path, and both fulfil
The fiat of His everlasting will.

And such was Samson's mission, as I deem'd, Which then so dark and so mysterious seem'd, For God was with him; wheresoe'er he press'd, His spirit moved him, and His presence bless'd. Bear witness, Timnath, when on love intent

A lion like a kid unarm'd he rent,

And from its swarming carcase subtly wrought

That deadly and disastrous riddle, fraught
With woe.
Bear witness, widow'd Askelon,
Reft of thy children, God was with my son.
Bear witness, Etham's cloud-engirdled crest,
Where eagle-like he built his rocky nest
Aloft, alone, with God communing there
In solitary thought and secret prayer.
Bear witness of that hour, Philistia, when
Besieged by foes and faithless countrymen,

Arm'd only with the jaw-bone of an ass,

He fell❜d thy choicest warriors like the grass,

And smote through brazen helms and plated mail

A thousand men in Ramath-Lehi's vale:

And when his spirit fail'd at eventide

Drank from the heaven-sent "well of him that cried." 1

Yes, God the Lord was with him. His the might
That braced his soul and nerved his arm in fight;
And His the fountain of exhaustless thought
That flow'd from Samson's rugged lips untaught,
When, at his bidding, with obedient feet,

All Israel throng'd around his judgment seat.

Then all men call'd us blessed: peace again

Shed its rich plenty over hill and plain;

The fields were white with flocks; and, loved of God,
Again our land with milk and honey flow'd;
Age in his presence bow'd, and virgins young
With tabrets and with dance his triumphs sung,
And parents taught their infants' lips to frame
Their first fond blessings on our Samson's name.

1 "He called the name thereof Enhakkore ; " margin, him that cried." -Judg. xv. 19.

"the well of

A few short years of mirth and minstrelsy,

And, oh, the harrowing change to mine and me!
Our foes again victorious; and our child
Begirt by hatred, and by love beguiled,

Shorn of his Godlike strength, bereaved of sight
And freedom, in the dungeon's loathsome night,
The slave of slaves who mock'd his every sigh,
to die.

And sported with his only prayer ·

Woe for his mother, woe! the tidings crush'd

Her heart :— when forth companionless he rush'd
Singly a thousand warriors to assail,

I never saw her glowing cheek turn pale ;

But when she heard upon that awful night,

"Thy Samson is no more a Nazarite,"

Long while she sate in speechless anguish there,

A mute and marble likeness of despair,

Till from her breaking heart these words found way:

"My God. . . ." she struggled, but she could not pray "My husband and she shook in every limb,

"He hath abandon'd God, and God abandon'd him."

But why retrace the story of his fall,

Alas, too well, too widely known by all?