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In the laps of Delilah,
Where pleasures abound,
There the pits are
And there snares are found.
There in her flawless laps,
In the smoothness that there be,
And her warmth-yielding taps,
Lies traps no greedy eyes can see.
The beckon of her eyes,
The fluttering of its lids,
From whence calls of pleasure flies,
Them it is that sow the evil seeds.
In Delilah’s ample bosom
Falls the mighty and the brave
And its pleasures so awesome
Maketh the king a slave.
There in Delilah’s laps
Strong Samson lost his lock;
While the strong man naps,
She makes of him a thing to mock.
Spend not the strength of your youth
In Delilah’s ensnared laps,
For she seeks your store to loot
And your strength she saps.
