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LibraryThing ReviewРецензія користувача - SashaM - LibraryThing
I liked the Eve of St Agnes but Lamia bored me brainless and the last left me indifferent. I felt this is another one that would benefit from some explainitary notes on historical / mythical references Читати огляд повністю
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ache aged AGNES Angela awake awhile breast breathing bride carpet chamber chanced charm chill closed dame deep door doth dream EVE OF ST eyes face fair fear fled Full gaze Give golden grace grew grieve hair hand happy head heard heart heaven held hence holy hurried hush'd iced July kneel knees knelt lady lamp land leave Library light look Lord lost Love's lovers lute Madeline Madeline's meagre Meantime melt midnight minute moan moon moonlight moors morn never night pain pale poor Porphyro pray prayer receive retire rich rose safe saints Save scarce seem'd side silent silver sleep slept soft soon soul spirit stones sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou art thought thousand told trembling visions voice wakeful warm weak whisper wide wings Young Porphyro
Сторінка 20 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint: She seem'da splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven: Porphyro grew faint: She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.
Сторінка 16 - O may -I ne'er find grace When my weak voice shall whisper its last prayer, If one of her soft ringlets I displace, Or look with ruffian passion in her face: Good Angela, believe me by these tears; Or I will, even in a moment's space, Awake, with horrid shout, my foemen's ea.rs, And beard them, though they be more fang'd than wolves and bears.
Сторінка 23 - And now, my Love ! my seraph fair, awake ! Thou art my heaven, and I thine eremite. Open thine eyes, for meek St. Agnes' sake ! Or I shall drowse beside thee, so my soul doth ache.
Сторінка 9 - The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide: The level chambers, ready with their pride, Were glowing to receive a thousand guests: The carved angels, ever eager-eyed, Stared where upon their heads the cornice rests, With hair blown back, and wings put cross-wise on their breasts.
Сторінка 20 - Half-hidden, like a mermaid in seaweed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Сторінка 15 - Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow, and in his pained heart Made purple riot: then doth he propose A stratagem, that makes the beldame start: "A cruel man and impious thou art...
Сторінка 17 - For I am slow and feeble, and scarce dare On such a catering trust my dizzy head. Wait here, my child,, with patience ; kneel in prayer The while : Ah ! thou must needs the lady wed, Or may I never leave my grave among the dead.
Сторінка 21 - tween the curtains peep'd, where, lo ! — how fast she slept. Then by the bed-side, where the faded moon Made a dim, silver twilight, soft he set A table, and, half-anguish'd, threw thereon A cloth of woven crimson, gold, and jet...
Сторінка 23 - twas a midnight charm Impossible to melt as iced stream : The lustrous salvers in the moonlight gleam ; Broad golden fringe upon the carpet lies : It...
Сторінка 18 - Agnes' charmed maid, Rose, like a mission'd spirit unaware : With silver taper's light, and pious care, She turn'd, and down the aged gossip led To a safe level matting. Now prepare, Young Porphyro, for gazing on that bed ; She comes, she comes again, like ring-dove fray'd and fled.