On a Picture Painted by her self, representing two Nimphs of Diana's, one in a posture to Hunt, the other Batheing.

We are Diana's Virgin-Train, Descended of no Mortal Strain; Our Bows and Arrows are our Goods, Our Pallaces, the lofty Woods, The Hills and Dales, at early Morn, Resound and Eccho with our Horn; We chase the Hinde and Fallow-Deer, The Wolf and Boar both dread our Spear; In Swiftness we out-strip the Wind, An Eye and Thought we leave behind; We Fawns and Shaggy Satyrs awe; To Sylvan Pow'rs we give the Law: Whatever does provoke our Hate, Our Javelins strike, as sure as Fate; We Bathe in Springs, to cleanse the Soil, Contracted by our eager Toil; In which we shine like glittering Beams, Or Christal in the Christal Streams; Though Venus we transcend in Form, No wanton Flames our Bosomes warm! } If you ask where such Wights do dwell, } In what Bless't Clime, that so excel? } The Poets onely that can tell.