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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| A DISCOURSE between the SOUL and FAITH. |
 | Fons Lachrymarum |  |
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A DISCOURSE between the SOUL and FAITH.
Sou.Faith , can thy hand protect me? can thy art
Prescribe a cordial for a fainting heart?
Hast thou the skill to settle my belief,
And arm my Soul against the darts of grief?
Fai.
I have the art, (sad Soul,) hadst thou the power
T'imbrace belief, to bring thee to the Bower,
The fragrant Bower of pleasure, which shall be
Perfum'd, and deckt with blest Eternitie.
Sou.
I do believe, and my belief torments
My mind with millions of sad discontents.
I do believe, what ever Heav'n devis'd,
Then judg, oh judg, how I am Tantaliz'd!
Fai.
Oh know (mistaking Soul) such faith we call,
By the sad name of diabolical.
Sou.
Oh strange, oh sad, oh miserable case!
Has faith rob'd Janus of his double face?
Doth not the sacred volumn end this strife,
And bids believe, and have eternal life?
Fai.
Th'eternal tenants of th'infernal lake,
Believe and tremble too, but can partake
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Nothing, except th'enlargement of their pain.
Sou.
How comes it then to pass, if they beleeve,
They're not rewarded, but must always grieve
In utter darkness? Is their faith so strong
T'acknowledg God, & yet they know him wrong?
Fai.
They acknowledg God in Justice, but have run
Beyond his mercy, and despis'd his Son:
Their faith prevails but only to inthral
Their Souls, because 'tis not salvifical.
Sou.
But tell me Faith, how may I learn to know,
Whether thou art salvifical or no?
Fai.
Examine well thy self, then go and pry
Into the sacred Scriptures; let thine eye
Peruse with diligence, and let thy pray'rs
Sail towards the port of Heav'n in swelling tears,
Then thou wilt find, how dearly God will own
A Soul that sings a penitential tone.
Sou.
But when I strive and struggle to express
My self in pray'r, I find a dubiousness.
Fai.
It is a happiness oft-times, to doubt
A happiness:—
How oft did David (Gods delight) cry out,
My God, my glorious God, Oh why, oh why
Hast thou forsaken me, and dost deny
The spreading splendor which was wont to shine,
And glimmer on this doubtful Soul of mine?
Be serious, Soul, and let they thoughts reflect
On Gods indulgency, and thy neglect.
How often hath he with his dewy locks
Attended thee, and with redoubled knocks
Desir'd, nay beg'd an entrance, to impart
Love-sick expressions to thy wilful heart?
And ah, how willingly hath he delated
His dear affections to thee, and not hated
To call thee his own Image, nay his Dove?
(Oh streaming fountain of Eternal Love!)
How hath he lab'red with a watchful eye,
To woo thee to his blest eternity?
Sou.
My God, my glorious God, Oh why, oh why
Hast thou forsaken me, and dost deny
The spreading splendor which was wont to shine,
And glimmer on this doubtful Soul of mine?
Be serious, Soul, and let they thoughts reflect
On Gods indulgency, and thy neglect.
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Attended thee, and with redoubled knocks
Desir'd, nay beg'd an entrance, to impart
Love-sick expressions to thy wilful heart?
And ah, how willingly hath he delated
His dear affections to thee, and not hated
To call thee his own Image, nay his Dove?
(Oh streaming fountain of Eternal Love!)
How hath he lab'red with a watchful eye,
To woo thee to his blest eternity?
But tell me then, if I am thus, thus dear
Unto my GOD; why will my GOD not hear
My morning sorrows, and my midnight moans,
And stop the revolutions of my groans,
But let my poor Astræa fly in vain
To his high Altar, and return again
Unanswer'd? ah, what over-awing rod
Smarts like the silence of an angry GOD!
Fai.
(Distemp'rd Soul) oh do not thou become
(Because thy GOD seems deaf unto thee) dumb;
Reverberate the portals of his ears
With thy complaints, and let thy vocal tears
Invite an audience; urge him by the force
Of his own language, Heav'n cannot divorse
Himself from his own words; oh, let him know
Thou hast his sacred promises to show
For what thou dost: Tell him that Heav'n and earth
Shall pass away, but the delightful birth
Of his pæthetical expressions shall
Be heirs unto Eternity; go call
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To tell him to his face, thou hast layd hold
Upon his promises; tell him thou art
A Whole, a broken, and a contrite heart:
Tell him th'art heavy loaden, and opprest,
And crav'st the injoyment of a happy rest:
What though thy querelous desires at first
Seem to be frivolous, and slightly nurst?
Detract not thou, but be progressive still,
And not too retrograde, but let thy will
Attend his pleasure; is't not fit that he
Should be attended, that attended thee?
What if he still denies, thou art but payd
With that dull Coin which thine own sins have made?
Hath he not waited at the brazen Walls
Of thy regardless brest, us'd many calls,
Nay many thousands, and hath daily knock'd
And found the nurs'ry of thy ears still lock'd
And bar'd against him? 'twas enough to turn
Patience into an Extasy, and burn
The strongest Resolution, and incite
Vengeance to make an everlasting night.
Oh think on this (blest Soul) and be content,
Good actions seldom want a good event.
| Fons Lachrymarum | |