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Of all our parts, the eyes express The sweetest kind of bashfulness.

For one so rarely tun'd to fit all parts, For one to whom espous'd are all the arts, Long have I sought for, but could never see Them all concentr'd in one man, but thee. Thus, thou that man art whom the fates conspir'd To make but one, and that's thyself, admir'd.

Prue, my dearest maid, is sick, Almost to be lunatic: Æsculapius! come and bring Means for her recovering; And a gallant cock shall be Offer'd up by her to thee. Cock, the traditional offering to Æsculapius; cp. the last words of Socrates; cp. Ben Jonson, Epig. xiii.

Phœbus! when that I a verse Or some numbers more rehearse,