VIII.

Welcome, ladies! to the cell, Where the blameless Pixies dwell, But thou, sweet nymph! proclaimed our faery queen, With what obeisance meet Thy presence shall we greet? For lo! attendant on thy steps are seen Graceful ease in artless stole, And white-robed purity of soul, With honour’s softer mien: Mirth of the loosely-flowing hair And meek-eyed pity eloquently fair, Whose tearful cheeks are lovely to the view, As snow-drop wet with dew.