Three hundred foxes Sampson took for ire, And all their tailës he together band, And set the foxes’ tailës all on fire, For he in every tail had knit a brand, And they burnt all the cornës of that lend, And all their olivéres and vinës eke. A thousand men he slew eke with his hand, And had no weapon but an ass’s cheek.
When they were slain, so thirsted him, that he Was well-nigh lorn, for which he gan to pray That God would on his pain have some pitý, And send him drink, or ellës must he die; And of this ass’s check, that was so dry, Out of a wang-tooth sprang anon a well, Of which, he drank enough, shortly to say. Thus help’d him God, as Judicum can tell.
By very force, at Gaza, on a night, Maugré the Philistines of that citý, The gatës of the town he hath up plight, And on his back y-carried them hath he High on an hill, where as men might them see. O noble mighty Sampson, lefe and dear, Hadst thou not told to women thy secré, In all this world there had not been thy peer.
This Sampson never cider drank nor wine, Nor on his head came razor none nor shear, By precept of the messenger divine; For all his strengthës in his hairës were; And fully twenty winters, year by year, He had of Israel the governance; But soonë shall he weepë many a tear, For women shall him bringë to mischance.
Unto his leman Dalila he told, That in his hairës all his strengthë lay; And falsely to his foemen she him sold, And sleeping in her barme upon a day She made to clip or shear his hair away, And made his foemen all his craft espien. And when they foundë him in this array, They bound him fast, and put out both his eyen.
But, ere his hair was clipped or y-shave, There was no bond with which men might him bind; But now is he in prison in a cave, Where as they made him at the quernë grind. O noble Sampson, strongest of mankind! O whilom judge in glory and richéss! Now may’st thou weepë with thine eyen blind, Since thou from weal art fall’n to wretchedness.