SIR ED: KELLEY
CONCERNING
the Philosopher’s Stone written to
his especiall good Freind, G. S. Gent.

The heavenly Cope hath in him Natures sower,
Two hidden; but the rest to sight appeare:
Wherein the Spermes of all the Bodies lower;
Most secrett are, yett Spring forth once a yeare,
       And as the Earth with Water, Authors are,
       So of his parte is Drines end of care.

No flood soe greate as that which floweth still,
Nothing more fixt than Earth digested thrise:
No Winde so fresh as when it serveth will;
No Profitt more, then keepe in, and be wise,
       No better happ, then drie up Aire to dust,
       For then thou maist leave of and sleepe thy lust

Yett will I warne thee least thou chaunce to faile,
Sublyme thine Earth with stinking Water erst,
Then in a place where Phœbus onely tayle
Is seene art midday, see thou mingle best:
       For nothing shineth that doth want his light,
       Nor doubleth beames, unless it first be bright.

Lett no man leade, unlesse he know the way
That wise men teach, or Adrop leadeth in,
Whereof the first is large and easiest pray;
The other hard, and meane but to begin.
       For surely these and no one more is found,
       Wherein Appollo will his harp-strings sound.

Example learne of GOD that plaste the Skyes,
Reflecting vertues from and t’every poynt,
In which the mover wherein all things lyes,
Doth hold the vertues all of every Joynt:
       And therefore Essence sift may well be said,
       Conteining all and yett himsèlfe a Maid.

Remember also how the Gods began,
And by Discent who was to each the Syre,
Then learnt their Lives and Kingdomes if you can,
Their Manners eke, with all their whole Attire;
       Which if thou doe, and know to what effect
       The learned sophets will thee not reject

If this my Doctrine bend not with thy brayne,
Then say I nothing though I said too much:
Of truth tis good will moved me, not gaine,
To write these lynes: yett write I not to such
       As catch at Crabs, when better fruits appeare,
       And want to chuse at fittest time of yeare.

Thou maist (my Freind) say, what is this for lore?
I answere, such as auncient Physicke taught:
And though thou read a thousand Bookes before,
Yett in respect of this, they teach thee Naught:
       Thou mayst likewise be blind, and call me Foole
       Yett shall these Rules for ever praise their Schoole.