Fons Lachrymarum or a fountain of tears: From whence doth flow Englands Complaint, Jeremiahs Lamentations paraphras'd with Divine Meditations and an elegy Upon that Son of Valor Sir Charles Lucas. Written by John Quarles |
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Roganti dabitur.
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 | Fons Lachrymarum |  |
Roganti dabitur.
Who would not be a Beggar, that may craveUpon such easie terms, but ask, and have?
Here's swelling bounty, and sure this must be
No humane, but a Divine charitie:
Here well instructed poverty may live,
He that gives power to ask, hath power to give
The greatest gift that ever yet was known,
Was freely given, being ask'd by none.
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(Many give once, because they'l give no more.)
But he, who gave that gift, will not refrain,
(If wisely ask'd) to give us gifts again.
And if a heart-recorded gift we make
Of this; his giving, teaches us to take.
Be it ordain'd, that begging be an art,
Heaven loves a giving hand, a begging heart.
But let us rest a little; here's the task,
Heav'n knows to give, we know not how to ask.
Methinks I hear some multiloquious fool
Make this reply, what, must I go to school
And learn to beg? I'm skilful to require,
If Heav'n would suit his gifts to my desire.
Let fools delight in folly let them think
That men are blind, because they see them wink.
Others methinks reply; Have we not cry'd
To Heav'n for blessings and have been deny'd?
Have not our early voyces been extended
To Heav'n, and yet our labors vili-pended?
Is this th'effect of pray'r? are these the gains
That we were largely promis'd for our pains?
Go silly Souls, and do not thus contest
With him that knows what's worst, and what is best.
Ye know not what ye ask; your fond desires,
If granted to, may breed such flaming fires
Within your greedy brests, and so torment
Your hearts with millions of sad discontent:
Then may ye know that true discretion lies
As well in asking, as in giving-wise.
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What's fit for their desires, and then they'l sow
Their pray'rs in such a soil as shall encrease
Their stock of Grace, and everlasting Peace.
| Fons Lachrymarum | |