Samson and Delilah
Richard
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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Until, with a groan of weakness, his secret he did confide.
He pushed the pillars outward, with strength from fingertips.
For she was sent by enemies, his slumbering strength to reap.
With muscles straining, twisting, a prayer upon his lips,
Cut it, and my strength shall vanish, leaving nothing here."
His locks, like raven rivers, held a magic all their own,
Delilah, triumphant, called upon her kin,
Favored by the heavens, with power in his hands,
For love, for gentle whispers, to make him feel whole.
His spirit, though diminished, yearned for a final stand,
A tale of strength and weakness, of love and bitter plight,
Born by a barren woman, a blessing to behold.
But Delilah, relentless, chipped away like a rising morn.
Her eyes, like pools of moonlight, held a secret, dark and deep,
She wheedled and she flattered, played upon his pride,
With honeyed words and cunning, she teased him day by day,
Hear the tale of Samson, a man of strength untold,
Though love became his downfall, a lesson etched in stone,
While Samson, unsuspecting, slept within.
His power drained like water, fading into the night.
He tore through Philistine ranks, a whirlwind in the fight,
The legend of Samson, forever in the light.
A Nazarite, a holy vow, his strength from God alone.
Three times he lied, with riddles and with scorn,
They mocked him, chained him tightly, a spectacle of shame,
Blinded and betrayed, his freedom turned to wrong.
Philistines rushed upon him, their vengeance burning strong,
"My hair," he whispered, broken, "a vow I hold so dear,
A champion of freedom, a beacon burning bright.
"Tell me," she'd plead, "the source, your power, where does it stay?"
The mighty judge of Israel, a prisoner, but not tamed.
His sacrifice remembered, a hero never known.
To bring the temple crashing down upon that Philistine land.
A judge of Israel's people, protector of the lands.
But Samson, with his power, felt a yearning in his soul,
He ventured to Timnah, a Philistine town,
Where Delilah, with beauty, his senses spun around.
The shears they snipped and severed, those raven locks of might,
Samson and his tormentors, buried beneath the fear.
The temple walls came thundering down, a death knell loud and clear,