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24
SONGS OF
VIII.
Where the blameless Pixies dwell.
But thou sweet Nymph! proclaim'd our Faery Queen,
With what obeisance[errata 1] meet
Thy presence shall we greet?
For lo! attendant on thy steps are seen
Graceful Ease in artless stole,
And white-rob'd Purity of soul.
With Honor's softer mein:
Mirth of the loosely-flowing hair,
And meek ey'd Pity eloquently fair,
Whose tearful cheeks are lovely to the view,
As snow-drop wet with dew.
Errata
