I
Schal yow tel wyth hert mode,
Of three Kynggys that ben so goude,
And how thaye came to God almyght,
The wich was ther a sweet syght.
I figure now howr besset [blessed] Stone,
Fro Heven wase send downe to Solomon:
By an Angele bothe goude and stylle,
The wych wase than Christis wylle.
The present of hem in Bedlem than,
To Cryst brwght Aurum Tus & Myrham.
Owre Sol and Sulphir wyth his Mercuri,
Both Bodi and Soule wyth oure Luneyre.
Aurum betokeneth heer, owre Bodi than,
The wych was brwght to God and Man.
And Tus alleso owre Soule of lyfe,
Wyth Myrham owre Mercurye that ys hys Wyfe.
Here be the thre namys fayre and good
And alle thaye ben but one in mode.
Lyke as the Trenite ys but on,
Ryght so conclude the Phylosofeers Stone.
Thow mayst a se her now in syght,
Off owre Stone figuriet a right.
How sende he wase out of Heven,
By an Angele wyth mylde Stefyn.
And by hys fygure thow mayst se
That hyt ys lyke to personis Thre.
To Fader and Sonne and holi Gost,
The wych was and ys of mytis most;
Into hys blyse now come wee,
Amen goud Lord for cheyte.