Not in nutshell, but Colocassian cup,
Shall make my fancy catch at naught but gems,
And wreathe the Muses' brows with diadems.
Methinks this draught such virtue does infuse
240As if in every sense there dwelt a muse,
A spirit of valour to ungod great war,
Should he but send a ram, but to the bar;
Who knows not Vaticinium does imply
In equal measures verse and prophecy,
An inspiration, a celestial touch?