m 



''ftt ^Immm," 



Weep tuneful nine ! unloose your founts of woe j — 



Mourn o'er this modem Sampson's overthrow. 



Before whose jawbone men have bow'd the head 



In fear and wonder. Mourn for he is dead. 



Dead yet alive; — himself to sigh with you, 



Seeing his life as some dissolving view 



Whose tints in mingling melting are perplext, 



Their charms all gone— uncertain of " what next." 



From side to side his fiery bolts have flown, 



Borne by his couriers fleetly up and down ; — 



Now, like some brazen, " animated bust " 



Thrown fi-om its pedestal — he lies in dust. 



The fiery glow spread o'er his face divine 



Is hid from view, no more alas ! to shine. 



Full well ye know, ye nymphs of love and song 



Whose hand has wrought this mighty Sampson wrong ;- 



' Twas not the loss of locks from off his head, 



('Twas loss of what should be within, instead.) 



That gave him to the Philistines for scorn, 



To bear their gibes, and weak, defenceless, mourn. 



False " Delilah ! " 'twere well to hide thy face; — 



Who shall henceforth instruct this wayward race ? 



To whom for moral teachings shall we fly]? 



On wliota as virtues champion fix our eye ? 



Who now shall warn our rising youth of snares 



Laid in life's path to catch them unawares ? 



7 he question speeds from anxious mouth to mouth ; — 



No answer comes ; —from east, west, north and south 



The query rings- but still in vain they ask, 



Till soft-voic'd echo, wearied, leaves her task. 



Then mourn ye nine, let tears like torrents run ; 



Weep, wail and groan, for Sampson is undone. 



Jonas. 



