On the sward the maidens sat, Naught that seat surpasses; Phyllis near the rivulet, Flora 'mid the grasses; Each into the chamber sweet Of her own soul passes, Love divides their thoughts, and wounds With his shafts the lasses. Love within the breast of each, Hidden, unsuspected, Lurks and draws forth sighs of grief From their hearts dejected: Soon their ruddy cheeks grow pale, Conscious, love-affected; Yet their passion tells no tale, By soft shame protected. Phyllis now doth overhear Flora softly sighing: Flora with like luck detects Sigh to sigh replying. Thus the girls exchange the game, Each with other vying; Till the truth leaps out at length, Plain beyond denying. Long this interchange did last Of mute conversation; All of love-sighs fond and fast Was that dissertation. Love was in their minds, and Love Made their lips his station; Phyllis then, while Flora smiled, Opened her oration. "Soldier brave, my love!" she said, "Where is now my Paris? Fights he in the field, or where In the wide word tarries? Oh, the soldier's life, I swear, All life's glory carries; Only valour clothed in arms With Dame Venus marries!" Phyllis thus opens the question whether a soldier or a scholar be the fitter for love. Flora responds, and for some time they conduct the dispute in true scholastic fashion. Being unable to settle it between themselves, they resolve to seek out Love himself, and to refer the matter to his judgment. One girl mounts a mule, the other a horse; and these are no ordinary animals, for Neptune reared one beast as a present to Venus, Vulcan forged the metal-work of bit and saddle, Minerva embroidered the trappings, and so forth. After a short journey they reach the Garden of Love, which is described with a truly luxuriant wealth of imagery. It resembles some of the earlier Renaissance pictures, especially one of great excellence by a German artist which I once saw in a dealer's shop at Venice, and which ought now to grace a public gallery. FLORA AND PHYLLIS. PART III. No. 29. On their steeds the ladies ride, Two fair girls and slender; Modest are their eyes and mild, And their cheeks are tender. Thus young lilies break the sheath, Budding roses render Blushes, and twinned pairs of stars Climb the heavens with splendour. Toward Love's Paradise they fare, Such, I ween, their will is; While the strife between the pair Turns their cheeks to lilies; Phyllis Flora flouts, and fair Flora flouteth Phyllis; Flora's hand a hawk doth bear, And a goshawk Phyllis.