then, that I find myself in a land of flowers where the posy,
“Amor omnia vincit,”
is supreme. The words “Away with those false disciples who hold that this divine science has no other end but that of making gold and silver,” ring in my ears.
If I have failed to discover to you the Philosopher’s Stone, let me at any rate venture to hope that you may gather pleasure from the perusal of the little book I now offer you,—
“Loves Garland,” etc.
Possibly the utterances of hearts that lived over a period of three hundred years from the present time may vibrate with your own, and you may not think my labours with the crucible altogether in vain. Possibly in these quaint and sentimental love-thoughts you, in your turn, may discover those “arcana tinctures and elixirs” which, the great master of
