Chvrchyards Challenge [by Thomas Churchyard] |
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A Commendation to them that can make gold,
shewing that many heretofore hath found out the Philosophers stone.
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 | Chvrchyards Challenge |  |
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A Commendation to them that can make gold, shewing that many heretofore hath found out the Philosophers stone.
What
wordes of worth, or filed phrase of men.
May serue my turne, to shew rare gifts of grace
What percing speech, what toong or flowing pen
Is fit to blase, the valour of this case,
My wits are weake, my sense and skill to base:
To talke or treate, on thinges of such great weight.
That seemes so deepe, and reacheth such a height.
May serue my turne, to shew rare gifts of grace
What percing speech, what toong or flowing pen
Is fit to blase, the valour of this case,
My wits are weake, my sense and skill to base:
To talke or treate, on thinges of such great weight.
That seemes so deepe, and reacheth such a height.
With Uirgills verse, and Homers haughtie style,
In golden lines, should knowledge glorie shine.
Would God one man, were borne in this our Ile:
Could catch from cloudes, great arts and grace diuine.
As he were taught, of all the muses nine,
To knowe the course of stars and stately skies:
And howe deepe seas, and floudes doe fall and rise,
In golden lines, should knowledge glorie shine.
Would God one man, were borne in this our Ile:
Could catch from cloudes, great arts and grace diuine.
As he were taught, of all the muses nine,
To knowe the course of stars and stately skies:
And howe deepe seas, and floudes doe fall and rise,
If mortall man, may robbe the gods of skill,
And rule the son, the moone and planets all.
And easly climbe, the heauens when he will:
Or make the spirites, belowe obey his call,
Or clap the earth, into a compasse small.
Knowledge is he, nay rather better seed,
A sacred power, hath knowledge in his head:
And rule the son, the moone and planets all.
And easly climbe, the heauens when he will:
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Or clap the earth, into a compasse small.
Knowledge is he, nay rather better seed,
A sacred power, hath knowledge in his head:
That from the Lord, of life and glory came,
No earthly gifte, nor worldly wicked knacke.
For world is vaine, most certaine sure I am:
And all foule artes, makes worldlings liue in lacke,
The cleanest mindes, are free from ruine and wracke
For vertue raignes, and rules this wretched mould:
And drawes from drosse, huge heapes of massie gold.
No earthly gifte, nor worldly wicked knacke.
For world is vaine, most certaine sure I am:
And all foule artes, makes worldlings liue in lacke,
The cleanest mindes, are free from ruine and wracke
For vertue raignes, and rules this wretched mould:
And drawes from drosse, huge heapes of massie gold.
They neuer thriue, that workes with hagges of hell,
Bare liues they lewd, bare robes and weedes they weare:
They seldome want, that in ioyes doying well.
Great store of fruit, a happie tree doth beare,
A blasted branch, but withers euery where:
A vertuous man, whose hart to grace aspires,
Findes good successe, of all his whole desires,
Bare liues they lewd, bare robes and weedes they weare:
They seldome want, that in ioyes doying well.
Great store of fruit, a happie tree doth beare,
A blasted branch, but withers euery where:
A vertuous man, whose hart to grace aspires,
Findes good successe, of all his whole desires,
Great studies gaines, great grace and wisdome too.
Great wisdome lookes, into Gods sacred throne:
And fewe doe knowe, what speciall grace can doe,
Such secrets great, doth rest in God alone.
And God giues man, the Philosophers stone,
Then who hath that, hath all that can be gote:
And needes not care; for all the world a grote.
Great wisdome lookes, into Gods sacred throne:
And fewe doe knowe, what speciall grace can doe,
Such secrets great, doth rest in God alone.
And God giues man, the Philosophers stone,
Then who hath that, hath all that can be gote:
And needes not care; for all the world a grote.
Some say that knowes, how god is pleased best,
Good life helpes much, to make men blessed heere:
If that be true, God doth bad life detest,
Where are we then, where shall foule life appeere.
Who hath faire face, who shewes a conscience cleere:
Such as can purge, themselues with praiers still,
Gets greatest grace, and gaineth greatest skil.
Good life helpes much, to make men blessed heere:
If that be true, God doth bad life detest,
Where are we then, where shall foule life appeere.
Who hath faire face, who shewes a conscience cleere:
Such as can purge, themselues with praiers still,
Gets greatest grace, and gaineth greatest skil.
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Good arts are armes, to all our bodies throwe,
By force to worke, by strength to strike all parts:
To make stife stones, or steele to bend or bowe,
As nothing could, escape the reach of arts.
Schollers in scholes, and merchantes in their marts.
Can ply their thrift, so they that maketh gold,
By giftes of grace, haue cunning treble fold.
By force to worke, by strength to strike all parts:
To make stife stones, or steele to bend or bowe,
As nothing could, escape the reach of arts.
Schollers in scholes, and merchantes in their marts.
Can ply their thrift, so they that maketh gold,
By giftes of grace, haue cunning treble fold.
To catch the heate, of son or fire by light:
And melt and myxe, the mettals as they are,
And put by art, compounds together streight.
As all should yeeld, to fine inuension rare:
When science leaues, all hidden secretes bare,
No mastry then, to worke on waxe newe wrought.
A picture plaine, to answere workmans thought:
And melt and myxe, the mettals as they are,
And put by art, compounds together streight.
As all should yeeld, to fine inuension rare:
When science leaues, all hidden secretes bare,
No mastry then, to worke on waxe newe wrought.
A picture plaine, to answere workmans thought:
Most neerest God, the cleanest hartes doe goe.
They cast of flesh, and Angels nature take,
And than throwe faith, they may moue mountaines so,
Gold by that meanes, a mortall man may make,
God doth great things, for his great glories sake.
That world shall see, some vessels God hath chose:
To whome he doth his hidden giftes disclose,
They cast of flesh, and Angels nature take,
And than throwe faith, they may moue mountaines so,
Gold by that meanes, a mortall man may make,
God doth great things, for his great glories sake.
That world shall see, some vessels God hath chose:
To whome he doth his hidden giftes disclose,
vii. of Wisdome.
The wise king said, he saw how world was made:
How things began, and how they end againe,
How fruits and flowers, doe flourish and doe fade.
How vertues rare, in herbes and roots remaine:
How out of stones, comes dewe like drops of raine,
And how dry dust, and earth that seemes nought worth,
Hides gold in hord, yet brings great treasure forth:
How things began, and how they end againe,
How fruits and flowers, doe flourish and doe fade.
How vertues rare, in herbes and roots remaine:
How out of stones, comes dewe like drops of raine,
And how dry dust, and earth that seemes nought worth,
Hides gold in hord, yet brings great treasure forth:
He saw what grace, and knowledge could discerne,
What wisdomes eies, could see in darkest night.
What God himselfe, to his electe did learne,
What man might doe, by Gods cleere lampe of light,
What might be knowne, by simple sacred sight.
And what poore men, by plainenesse might attaine:
And what fruit comes, by trauell toile and paine,
What wisdomes eies, could see in darkest night.
What God himselfe, to his electe did learne,
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What might be knowne, by simple sacred sight.
And what poore men, by plainenesse might attaine:
And what fruit comes, by trauell toile and paine,
To gather flowers, and weedes where ere they growe.
And take vp fruit, from tops of trees that fall,
And mixe these things, with flouds that ebbe and floe:
And at a becke, to change their natures all.
Is art at will, and knowledge we it call,
But to digge out, from drosse the gold most fine.
Is secret skill, and speciall power deuine:
And take vp fruit, from tops of trees that fall,
And mixe these things, with flouds that ebbe and floe:
And at a becke, to change their natures all.
Is art at will, and knowledge we it call,
But to digge out, from drosse the gold most fine.
Is secret skill, and speciall power deuine:
To make fine glasse, and giue it forme and shape,
Was sure an art, that fewe at first did knowe.
A painter made, quicke birds to picke the grape:
That pensell had, most finely painted so,
In dome dead things, life hath bin breathd you knowe.
Who reades shall see, great knowledge vnder son:
That was with men, by grace and vertue won,
Was sure an art, that fewe at first did knowe.
A painter made, quicke birds to picke the grape:
That pensell had, most finely painted so,
In dome dead things, life hath bin breathd you knowe.
Who reades shall see, great knowledge vnder son:
That was with men, by grace and vertue won,
Mercurius Tres migistus king of the Egiptianes.
A king there was, of yoer that Hermies hight,
Who first found out, the cause how gold was made.
Some at his torch, did there dime candells light:
That earst did walke, for want of Son in shade,
Since that in seas, full many wits did wade.
To found and see, how farre weake feete might goe:
And some did find, the depth thereof I troe,
Who first found out, the cause how gold was made.
Some at his torch, did there dime candells light:
That earst did walke, for want of Son in shade,
Since that in seas, full many wits did wade.
To found and see, how farre weake feete might goe:
And some did find, the depth thereof I troe,
Gebar a king, likewise of great estate,
A volume large, of this great art did write.
Throw studie long, Gebar such knowledge gat:
That in his books, great princes did delight,
Great thinges of him, great actors doe resyte.
Greater then he, some say was neuer none,
For he did teach, how men should make the stone.
A volume large, of this great art did write.
Throw studie long, Gebar such knowledge gat:
That in his books, great princes did delight,
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Greater then he, some say was neuer none,
For he did teach, how men should make the stone.
In a vision, much matter may you read,
Of this rich art, that thousands hold full deere:
Remundus too, that long liud heere indeede,
Wrate sundry workes, as well doth yet appeare.
Of stone for gold, and shewed plaine and cleere,
A stone for health, Arnolde wrate of the same:
And many more, that were too long to name.
Of this rich art, that thousands hold full deere:
Remundus too, that long liud heere indeede,
Wrate sundry workes, as well doth yet appeare.
Of stone for gold, and shewed plaine and cleere,
A stone for health, Arnolde wrate of the same:
And many more, that were too long to name.
But Ryppley may, not scape my pen as yet,
Nor Nortons bookes, that are in written hand:
Two famous clarkes, of ripe and ready wit.
Meere Englishmen, borne both with in this land,
In the records, of towre their workes doe stand:
Let this suffice, how ere the matter seemd,
Among the wise, this art was much esteemd.
Nor Nortons bookes, that are in written hand:
Two famous clarkes, of ripe and ready wit.
Meere Englishmen, borne both with in this land,
In the records, of towre their workes doe stand:
Let this suffice, how ere the matter seemd,
Among the wise, this art was much esteemd.
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