Names, deeds, grey legends, dire events, rebellions, Creations and destroyings, all at once Her arms as one who prophesied. At length * THE EVE OF ST. AGNES. S I. T. Agnes' Eve-ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold: Numb were the Beadsman's fingers while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking flight for heaven without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith. II. His prayer he saith, this patient, holy man; Then takes his lamp, and riseth from his knees, And back returneth, meagre, barefoot, wan, Along the chapel aisle by slow degrees: The sculptured dead, on each side seem to freeze, Emprison'd in black, purgatorial rails: Knights, ladies, praying in dumb orat❜ries, He passeth by; and his weak spirit fails To think how they may ache in icy hoods and mails. III. Northward he turneth through a little door, Rough ashes sat he for his soul's reprieve, IV. That ancient Beadsman heard the prelude soft; The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide : Stared, where upon their heads the cornice rests, With hair blown back, and wings put crosswise on their breasts. V. At length burst in the argent revelry, VI. They told her how, upon St. Agnes' Eve, Young virgins might have visions of delight, And soft adorings from their loves receive Upon the honey'd middle of the night, If ceremonies due they did aright; As, supperless to bed they must retire, And couch supine their beauties, lily white; Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire. VII. Full of this whim was thoughtful Madeline: And back retired; not cool'd by high disdain, But she saw not: her heart was otherwhere; She sigh'd for Agnes' dreams, the sweetest of the year.' · Keats writes to Mr. Taylor (June 11, 1820):- In reading over the proof of St. Agnes' Eve' since I left Fleet Street, I was struck with what appears to me an alter- her maiden eyes incline 'Twas originally written her maiden eyes divine Fix'd on the floor, saw many a sweeping train My meaning is quite de- of passers by, but for skirts In the first stanza my copy reads, second line — bitter chill it was, to avoid the echo cold in the second line." VIII. She danced along with vague, regardless eyes, 'Mid looks of love, defiance, hate, and scorn, Hoodwink'd with faery fancy; all amort, Save to St. Agnes and her lambs unshorn, And all the bliss to be before to-morrow morn. IX. So, purposing each moment to retire, She linger'd still. Meantime, across the moors, Had come young Porphyro, with heart on fire For Madeline. Beside the portal doors, Buttress'd from moonlight, stands he, and implores All saints to give him sight of Madeline, But for one moment in the tedious hours, That he might gaze and worship all unseen; Perchance speak, kneel, touch, kiss-in sooth such things have been. X. He ventures in: let no buzz'd whisper tell, Save one old beldame, weak in body and in soul. |