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Living or dying thou haft fulfill'd

The work for which thou waft foretold

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So fond are mortal men

Fall'n into wrath divine,

As their own ruin on themselves t' invite,

Infenfate left, or to fenfe reprobate,

2 SEMICHOR. But he, though blind of fight,

And with blindnefs internal struck.

Defpis'd and thought extinguifh'd quite,

With inward eyes illuminated,

His fiery virtue rots'd

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From

From under ashes into fudden flame,

And as an evening dragon came,

Affailant on the perched roofts,
And nefts in order rang'd

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MAN. Come, come, no time for lamentation now,

Nor much more caufe; Samfon hath quit himself
Like Samfon, and heroicly hath finish’d

A life heroic, on his enemies

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Fully reveng'd, hath left them years of mourning,
And lamentation to the fons of Caphtor

Through all Philiftian bounds, to Ifrael

Honor hath left, and freedom, let but them
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 affifting to the end,

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1720 Nothing

Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail
Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,
Difpraise, 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
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 fay us nay)
Will send for all my kindred, all my friends,
To fetch him hence, and folemnly attend
With filent obfequy and funeral train

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Home to his father's houfe: there will I build him
A monument, and plant it round with shade

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Of laurel ever green, and branching palm,
With all his trophies hung, and acts inroll'd
In copious legend, or fweet lyric fong.
Thither shall all the valiant youth refort,
And from his memory inflame their breasts
To matchless valor, and adventures high:
The virgins also shall on feastful days
Vifit his tomb with flowers, only bewailing
His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice,
From whence captivity and lofs of eyes.

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CHO. All is beft, though we oft doubt,

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What th' unfearchable dispose

Of highest wisdom brings about,

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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 fervants he with new acquist

Of true experience from this great event
With peace and confolation hath dismist,
And calm of mind, all paffion fspent.

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END OF SAMSON AGONISTES.

POEM S

UPON

SEVERAL OCCASIONS,

COMPOSED AT SEVERAL TIMES,

B Y

Mr. JOHN MILTON.

Baccare frontem

"Cingite, ne vati noceat mala lingua futuro.”

VIRGIL, Eclog. vii.

F2

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