comming to bee in a state, with a kinde of sacred pompe and procession,
accompanied with all the faire _flowers_ of his field, and the fairest
_rose_ (the Queen) of his owne garden!" The cross was demolished by
order of Parliament in 1643, executed by the willing hands of Isaac
Pennington, the fanatical Lord Mayor of that year, who died a convicted
regicide in the Tower. It stood at the north-east end of St. Paul's
Churchyard; a print of the cross, and likewise the shrouds, where the
company sat in wet weather, may be seen in Speed's Theatre of Great
Britain.

J.R.S.

* * * * *


ADA.

(_For the Mirror_.)


She stood in the midst of that gorgeous throng,
Her praise was the theme of every tongue;
Warriors were there, whose glance of fire
Spoke to their foes of vengeance dire,
But they were enslaved by beauty's power,
And knelt at her shrine in that moonlit bower.
Sweet words were breathed in Ada's ear
By many a noble cavalier;
Maidens with fairy steps were there,
Who seemed to float on the ambient air,