Blossoms

When Phebus was entered the signe of the ramm,

In the month of march when all Doth springe,

Lying in my bed, an old man to me came.

Laying his hand on my buysy head slumbringe,

"I am," he said, "Tyme, producer of cunninge.

Awake & rise, prepare thy selfe quickly;

My entent is to bring thee to [the Campe of] philosophy.

"Bloomes & blossomes plentiful in that feild

Bynn pleasantly flourishinge, vernant with collers gay.

Liuely water fountaines, eke beastes both tame & wild

Ouershadowed with trees fruitful, & on euery spray

Melodiously singinge, the birdes doe sitt & say:

'Father, sonn, & holy ghoste, to one god [in] persons three;

Impery & honor be to the holy trinitye.'"

Lo! thus when he had said, I arose swiftly,

Doeing on my clothes in haste with agility

Towardes the camp, wee went, of philosophi,

The wonderful sightes there for to see.

To a large greate gate, father tyme first brought me,

Which closed was; then he to me saide,

"Each thing his time hath; be thou nothing Dismaied."

The great admiracion I tooke into my selue,

With sore & huge perturbacions of minde,

Beholdinge the gate fastned with lockes twelue.

I fantasied but smalle that time should be my freind.

"Why studiest thou, man," quoth he; "art thou blind?"

With a rodd he touched me, whereat I Did Downe fall

Into a straunge sleepe, & In a Dreame he showed me all.

~~ the start of a written account in alchemical sciences from Mr Willm Blomefeld, philosopher and bachelor of physick, 1557