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Spurn'd them to death by Troops. The bold Ascalonite<br />

Fled from his Lion ramp, old Warriors turn'd<br />

Thir plated backs under his heel; 140<br />

Or grovling soild thir crested helmets in the dust.<br />

Then with what trivial weapon came to Hand,<br />

The Jaw of a dead Ass, his sword of bone,<br />

A thousand fore-skins fell, the flower of Palestin<br />

In Ramath-lechi famous to this day:<br />

Then by main force pull'd up, and on his shoulders bore<br />

The Gates of Azza, Post, and massie Bar<br />

Up to the Hill by Hebron, seat of Giants old,<br />

No journey of a Sabbath day, and loaded so;<br />

Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up Heav'n. 150<br />

Which shall I first bewail,<br />

Thy Bondage or lost Sight,<br />

Prison within Prison<br />

Inseparably dark?<br />

Thou art become (O worst imprisonment!)<br />

The Dungeon of thy self; thy Soul<br />

(Which Men enjoying sight oft without cause complain)<br />

Imprison'd now indeed,<br />

In real darkness of the body dwells,<br />

Shut up from outward light 160<br />

To incorporate with gloomy night;<br />

For inward light alas<br />

Puts forth no visual beam.<br />

O mirror of our fickle state,<br />

Since man on earth unparallel'd!<br />

The rarer thy example stands,<br />

By how much from the top of wondrous glory,<br />

Strongest of mortal men,<br />

To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fall'n.<br />

For him I reckon not in high estate 170<br />

Whom long descent of birth<br />

Or the sphear of fortune raises;<br />

But thee whose strength, while vertue was her mate<br />

Might have subdu'd the Earth,<br />

Universally crown'd with highest praises.<br />

Sam: I hear the sound of words, thir sense the air<br />

Dissolves unjointed e're it reach my ear.<br />

Chor: Hee speaks, let us draw nigh. Matchless in might,<br />

The glory late of Israel, now the grief;<br />

We come thy friends and neighbours not unknown 180<br />

>From Eshtaol and Zora's fruitful Vale

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