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Rich was the purple vest Floscella wore, Spun of the tufts the Tradescantia bore; The Cistus' flowers minute her temple graced, And threads of Yucca bound her slender waist.

From the wild bee, whose wond'rous labour weaves, In artful folds the rose's fragrant leaves, Was borrow'd fair Petalla's light cymar; And the Hypericum, with spangling star, O'er her fair locks its bloom minute enwreath'd; Then, while voluptuous odours round her breath'd, Came Nectarynia; as the arrowy rays Of lambent fire round pictur'd seraphs blaze, So did the Passiflora's radii shed, Cerulean glory o'er the sylphid's head,