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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Another DISCOVRSE between The SOUL and FAITH. |
 | Fons Lachrymarum |  |
108
Another DISCOVRSE between The SOUL and FAITH.
Sou.I'm full, and yet seem empty; I have store
Of earths delectables, and yet I'm poor;
I have what e're my rav'nous thoughts require,
And yet I want in having my desire;
I eat delicious food, drink sparkling wine,
Injoy my self, and yet I am not mine;
I am the worlds delight, I am the child
Of pregnant fortune, yet I am revil'd:
And what external happiness can be
Thought worth imbracement, is imbrac'd by me.
Since all these Joys are heap'd upon my back,
I fain would know, what 'tis I seem to lack.
Fai.
Thy wants are soon exprest (dull Soul,) I know,
Who wants my helpful hand, wants power to go.
Oh what an easie matter 'tis, to find
A stuffd-up body, and an empty mind!
Grief rest within the Centre of that brest,
That knows not what is worst, nor what is best;
But still looks downwards on this dunghil earth,
That alienates the Soul, and breeds a dearth
109
And glorious Monarchy: who can define
Th'inchanting Raptures, and th'emperious Joys
Of sublimated Heav'n, that toyls for toys?
Thou sayst th'art full, yet empty; thou hast store
Of earths delectables, and yet art poor:
'Tis true th'art full; but tell me whence proceeds
That fulness, say, what charitable deeds
Hast thou perform'd; oh learn (frail Soul) t'express,
Too great a fulness breeds an emptiness.
Experience tells thee, there is nothing worse
Then slighted mercy, turn'd into a curse.
Thou sayst, th'injoyst what e're thy mind requires,
And yet thou want'st in having thy desires;
Thou eat'st, thou drink'st, and hast the worlds consent
To be her darling, yet art not content.
'Tis true, he wants, whose fulness wants desire
To want that fulness which his wants require.
What though the World accumulates increase;
There's no content, when Heav'n denies a Peace.
Sou.
If Heav'ns blest mouth proclaim'd, no peace should be
Unto the wicked: What's become of me,
Who always liv'd to sin, and sin'd to dye!
Oh miserable, miserable I!
Fai.
'Tis true, GOD will not suffer Peace t'arise
Unto the Wicked, yet that GOD denies
A Sinner death, and by a free consent
Promis'd a pardon, with this word, Repent:
'Tis a persisting Sinner must expect
A sad reward, for a perform'd neglect.
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Then what must I expect, have I not run
(Even from the rising, to the setting Sun,)
In paths of negligence, and still persisted,
And rather back'd a sinner, then resisted
The power of sin? Oh how can I obtain,
Or thoughts, or hopes to be reclaim'd again?
Fai.
The mouth of Heav'n did never yet divide
His language thus; My Soul shall not abide
A penitent offender; no, his breath
Speaks better things, then the lamented Death
Of those, who though they have in former times
Been permanent in their unbosom'd crimes;
Yet when the sense of their transgression brings
Abundant sorrow, then Jehovah sings
Rare strains of mercy to their Souls, and powres
His endless mercy down in liberal showres.
Sou.
And is our GOD so merciful, so just
To lep'rous Souls? and shall not my Soul trust
In such a never-failing GOD? Shall I
Retort a no, when he proclaims an, I?
Oh no, Ile take what he shall give, and then
When Heav'n proclaims, my tongue shall say Amen.
For 'tis thy Christ, thy Love, thy Son must ease us.
Fai.
Follow me Soul, Ile lead thee to thy Iesus.
| Fons Lachrymarum | |