The Worke of Richard Carpenter

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OF Titan Magnasia take the cler light,
The rede Gumme that ys so bryght,
Of Philosofris the Sulfer vife,
I called Gold wythouten stryfe:
Of hem drawe owte a Tincture,
And make a matrymony pure:
Betweene the husband and the wyfe,
I spoused wyth the Water of lyfe:
And so that none dyvysion
Be there, in the conjenccion
Of the Moone and of the Sonne,
After the marriage ys begonne;
And that Mercury the planete,
On loes make hem fo to mete:
That eyder wyth oder be joyned even,
As a Stone engendered sente down fro heven;
Of hem make water clere rennynge,
As any Chrystall bryght schynynge.

Drawen out of bodyes fyxed,
By Nature prively mixed
Within a vessal depured clene,
Of Philosofris bright and schene;
Beware the Fume escape the nowght,
And alleso marked well in thy thowght;
That of the Fire the quallitee,
Equal to Phebez bemes be;
In the moneth of June and Jule,
Understand me be not dulle;
For thou schalt see marveles grete,
Colures spring oute of the heate:
Fyrste Blakke and Whyte, and so Redde,
And after Setryne wythouten drede:
And so wythin howres thre,
That Stone schall thorowe perced be
Wyth Aier that schall upon hym lyght,
The wych ys a wonder syght:
Whenne the spiryt ys refreyned,
And wyth the Bodie so constrayned,
That hem asounder maye nothyng parte,
So Nature hem doth there so coart,
In matrise whenne they both ben knyte,
Lett never thy Vessel be unshytte;
Tyl thys ingendred have a stone,
That in thys world ys not suche on:
For hyt ys called Anymal,
Richer then the Mineral.

Wyche ys founden in every plase,
Who foundeth hyt myght have grase:
In the and me and over alle
Both Vegetables and Sophisticall:
On Hilles hye and Valeys lowe,
He groweth who cowde hyt know,
Take thys for an informacion,
In Caryt and in Proporcion,
Lyth alle who so coude seke oute,
In Bus and Nubi ys alle the doute:
He that puttes hemself in pres,
To Genis and to Species:
Qualitas and every Quantite,
To mane a man hyt wol not be,
To brynge about thys treseur,
I mene owre Stone of such valour;
And yet who coude well understonde,
May fynde hit redy at hys honde:
For Fowles that in the Ayre done flee,
And also Fisches in the See:
The moyster of the rede Grape
And of the Whyte, who coud hym take:
Vertues of Erbes vegetyff,
And soules of Bestes sensytyff:
Reysons of Angels that doth discerne,
Goude and Yeul Man to governe,
All bryngs to thyn house
Thys Noble Ston so precious,
And Soverente of alle thys Werke,
Both to Lewd and to Clerke:
This lyth alle by discrecion,
In Fyre, and in Decoccion:
The craft recordeth yif he can rede,
How all and sume who shal spede;
In Bokes eler as ye maye see,
Stat in Ignis regimine:
To brynge fosth at my devys,
Thys ryche Rubye, thys Ston of prys:
Harde hevy and percyng,
Now ys thys a wonder thyng:
I coude never suche on a spye;
Save that I finde howe on Marie:
Fyrst found hyt wythouten lese,
The wyche was suster to Moysez:
But who hyt be be that schall hyt werke,
Let hem not begenn in the derke:
For he mai fayle for faute of lyght,
But the Sunne schyne full bright:
Advyse the well er thow begene,
Or else lytel schalt thow wynne.

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