3350In nature's garden there are choicer posies,
More comely features, and more agile thighs.
What though Albino's dead? another may
Be trulier termed the Phoebus of your day.'
'Oh, do not stain,' says she, 'his spotless name!
Within his bosom every virtue ranged.
Equals to him dull nature cannot frame,
Though she should labour till herself be changed:
It is a shame to ask more favours yet:
Grant me this one, because my sun is set.