A hundred virgins there he might espy Prostrate before a marble deity, Which, by its portraiture, appeared to be The image of Diana; on their knee They tendered their devotions, with sweet airs, Offering the incense of their praise and prayers. Their garments all alike; beneath their paps Buckled together with a silver claps, And 'cross their snowy silken robes, they wore An azure scarf, with stars embroidered o'er. Their hair in curious tresses was knit up, Crowned with a silver crescent on the top. A silver bow their left hand held, their right, For their defence, held a sharp-headed flight Drawn from their broidered quiver, neatly tied In silken cords, and fastened to their side. Under their vestments, something short before, White buskins, laced with ribanding, they wore. It was a catching sight for a young eye, That love had fired before. He might espy One, whom the rest had sphere-like circled round, Whose head was with a golden chaplet crowned. He could not see her face, only his ear Was blessed with the sweet sounds that came from her. THEALMA IN FULL DRESS. ----Tricked herself in all her best attire, As if she meant this day to invite desire To fall in love with her; her loose hair Hung on her shoulders, sporting with the air; Her brow a coronet of rosebuds crowned, With loving woodbines' sweet embraces bound. Two globe-like pearls were pendant to her ears, And on her breast a costly gem she wears, An adamant, in fashion like a heart, Whereon Love sat, a-plucking out a dart, With this same motto graven round about, On a gold border, 'Sooner in than out.' This gem Clearchus gave her, when, unknown, At tilt his valour won her for his own. Instead of bracelets on her wrists, she wore A pair of golden shackles, chained before Unto a silver ring, enamelled blue, Whereon in golden letters to the view This motto was presented, 'Bound, yet free,' And in a true-love's knot, a T and C Buckled it fast together; her silk gown Of grassy green, in equal plaits hung down Unto the earth; and as she went, the flowers, Which she had broidered on it at spare hours, Were wrought so to the life, they seemed to grow In a green field; and as the wind did blow, Sometimes a lily, then a rose, takes place, And blushing seems to hide it in the grass: And here and there good oats 'mong pearls she strew, That seemed like spinning glow-worms in the dew. Her sleeves were tinsel, wrought with leaves of green In equal distance spangeled between, And shadowed over with a thin lawn cloud, Through which her workmanship more graceful showed. DWELLING OF THE WITCH ORANDRA.