Casting the body's vest asideMy soul into the boughs does glide (51-52)
Anytime skin is being set aside so that the soul can float around like a bird, it's a safe bet you're dealing with a metaphysical poet.
How could such sweet and wholesome hoursBe reckoned but with herbs and flow'rs! (71-72)
There's a pun on "thyme" and "time" in here that really should have happened.
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