ON GOLD, NOT GOLD,

By the most learned colleague, Mr. Gwynne.

Gold, not Gold! this inscription tastes of war:
Beautifully, Candid One, you proscribe the work of fraud.
What deceit has entwined Antony, that with fake Gold
He should mock the common people, whom a wandering magpie stirs?
Is he ignorant, or is he needy? While he gapes basely at gold,
His soul is sluggish, just like his greedy hand.
There was death in the gold: will life rise again from death?
Can the spirit recreate, when the spirit has fled?
The gold of the crowd, and Salts, Celestial Water, and burning fire,
These are bastard things, known to Spagyrics, but little approved.
Knowing more, he hates the one who reveals: lest any quack
Hide fraud with fraud, the Candid Author acts.

TO DR. GWYNNE,

Physician,

From a pregnant womb, Mother Nature brings you forth with Candor;
But ancient Wales gave the name.
Wales signifies candor by the power of the name's sound:
Is there divinity in this name of Gwynne, or is there an omen?
Candor is in your words, it shines in the probity of your morals,
In doctrine, in genius, candor thrives everywhere.
Candor accompanies Honesty, as a shadow accompanies the body;
Thus candor strives to be a companion to virtue.
Is he Candid? He is Good; thus the Honest crowd asserts.
Is he evil? He is black; flee from him, and you will be cautious.
Candor, bound by virtue, enters into a pact with you:
This makes you pleasing to man, that to God.
May the name be happy in its omen, and prosperous in its auspice:
May the offspring of Candor, supported by the Divine, go forth.