Poems (Coates 1916)/Volume II/Delilah

by Florence Earle Coates

For other versions of this work, see Delilah (Coates).

DELILAH

EVERMORE I hear my name,
⁠Blared upon the cruel street,
⁠Echoed in my close retreat,
Breathing fame, and branding shame:
Evermore it mocks my dream.
⁠Though I wear the purple fine—
⁠All the pomp of Palestine—
Ravens over Gaza scream:
⁠⁠⁠"Delilah!"

And when most I should be gay
⁠For my triumph,—lo! my sight
⁠Darkens in another's night,
And accusing voices say:
"Guile may lightly vanquish odds;
⁠But though mortals pay the price
⁠And accept the sacrifice,
Treason's hateful to the gods,
⁠⁠⁠Delilah!"

Samson!—bowing reverent knee
⁠Unto Israel's God and thine—
⁠Did'st thou think I loved not mine?
Unto him I yielded thee!
Yet—O mighty in thy fall!—
⁠Groping still thy God to find,
⁠Bond and bound, bereft and blind,—
Happier thou than she they call
⁠⁠⁠Delilah!