Poetic-Verses
THE PRIDE OF BARBER-DOES
When Samson lay down on the couch;
I do not know if he was charmed;
He slept so deep and lost his grasp
Of space and time and every plan.
“The source of power! The source of power!”
She cried earlier till knew at last
The weakness of a man so strong;
A warrior of uncommon might;
A man not made of strength from earth.
Alas! He was now in the trap;
The very mess that brought him down.
“There are you, Samson; what can you
Do now that you are down at last?”
She must have said to quench his spirits.
Samson, your enemies be on you!”
She said in pride, mocking his daft
Self that lay weak without one might.
He'd sold his glory at the cost
Of nothing worth' of it at all.
She was the barber of the hour,
Saluted by the kings of calm,
Calculating and gradual ploy.
Was not Samson but worth so much
That even they despised to fight
All enemies but this one man?
I do not know if he was charmed;
He slept so deep and lost his grasp
Of space and time and every plan.
“The source of power! The source of power!”
She cried earlier till knew at last
The weakness of a man so strong;
A warrior of uncommon might;
A man not made of strength from earth.
Alas! He was now in the trap;
The very mess that brought him down.
“There are you, Samson; what can you
Do now that you are down at last?”
She must have said to quench his spirits.
Samson, your enemies be on you!”
She said in pride, mocking his daft
Self that lay weak without one might.
He'd sold his glory at the cost
Of nothing worth' of it at all.
She was the barber of the hour,
Saluted by the kings of calm,
Calculating and gradual ploy.
Was not Samson but worth so much
That even they despised to fight
All enemies but this one man?
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THE PRIDE OF BARBER-DOES
THE PRIDE OF BARBER-DOES
