Angry Samson

Are they blind, the lords of Gaza
  In their strong towers,
Who declare Samson pillow-smothered
  And stripped of his powers?

O stolid Philistines,
  Stare now in amaze
At my foxes running in your cornfields
  With their tails ablaze,

At swung jaw-bone, at bees swarming
  In the stark lion's hide,
At these, the gates of well-walled Gaza
  A-clank to my stride.

		Robert Graves