But sits and rules within her private bower.
3. That the Soul is more than the Temperature of the Humours of the body.
If She doth then the subtle Sense excel,
How gross are they, that drown her in the blood!
Or in the Body's humours tempered well,
As if in them, such high perfection stood.
As if most skill in that musician were,
Which had the best and best-tuned instrument;
As if the pencil neat, and colours clear