The Mistery
of Alchymists,
Composed by Sir Geo: Ripley
Chanon of Bridlington.

When Sol in Aries and Phoebus shines bright,
The Elements reviving the new Year springing
The Son by his Vertue gives Nature & Light,
And moysture refresheth all things growing:
In the season of the Yeare when the Sun waxeth warme,
Freshly and fragrante the Flowers doe grow,
Of Natures subtill working we cannot discerne,
Nor yet by our Reason we can it not know,
In foure Elements is comprehended things Three,
Animalls, Vegetabills, Mineralls must be,
Of this is our Principle that we make our Stone,
Quality and Quantity is unknowne to many one.
   Quality (Father) would I faine know,            Son.
Of what nature it is and what it hath in his kinde.
   As Colours divers which on the ground do grow,      Father.
Keep well this secret (Son) and marke it in thy minde.
   Without Proportion (Father) how should I it know,      Son.
This working now is far from my minde
   Nature and kinde (Son) together do grow,            Father.
Quality by waight (Son) shalt thow never finde.
   To Separate Elements (Father) I must needes know,      Son.
Either in Proportion which be more or less.
   Out of our Principle foure Elements thou shalt draw,      Father.
Thou shalt neede nothing else that needefull is;
Our Principle in quality is so perfectly mixed,
By vertue of the Son and his quality,
So equally Joyned, so well mixed may be.
   This Principle (Father) is but one thing,            Son.
Good (Father) tel me where it doth grow.
   In every place (Son) you shall him well finde;         Father.
By Tast and by Colour thou shalt him well know;
Fowle in the Ayer with it doe fly,
And Fishes doe swim there with in the Sea,
With Reason of Angels you may it diserne,
Both Man and Woman to governe,
With our fixed Body (Son) we must thus begin.
Of him make Mercury and Water cleare,
Man and Woman is them within,
Married together by vertue of our Fire,
The Woman in he working is full wild,
Be well aware she goe not out;
Till she have conceived and borne a Chylde,
Then all his kin on him shal lout;
In their workes they be unstable,
The Elements they be so raw;
And their Colour so variable,
As sometyme like the head of a Crow,
When he is black ye may well like,
Putrefaction must go beforne,
After Blacke he wilbe White,
Then Thank ye God the Chyld is borne.
This Chyld is both King and Emperour,
Through his region both far and neere;
All the World doth him honour,
By the vertue he hath taken of the Fire:
His first Vertue is White and pure,
As any Christall shining cleere,
Of White tincture then be you sure;
By vertue taken of our Fire,
His first Vesture that is so White,
Betokeneth his Virginity,
A similitude even thereto like,
And according to the Trinity:
Our Medicen is made of things Three,
Against which the Philosophers cannot say nay,
The Father, the Sone in one degree,
Corpus, Spiritus & Anima.
...

(Balance of this compelling Alchemical Epic can be found here.


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