KEATS. THE EVE OF ST. AGNES. I. ST. AGNES' Eve-Ah, bitter chill it was! The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, Numb were the Beadsman's fingers while he told 5 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 ; ΙΟ And back returneth, meagre, barefoot, wan, Along the chapel aisle by slow degrees: The sculptured dead on each side seemed to freeze, 15 Knights, ladies, praying in dumb orat❜ries, To think how they may ache in icy hoods and mails. III. Northward he turneth through a little door, And scarce three steps, ere Music's golden tongue But no already had his death-bell rung; 20 The joys of all his life were said and sung; And all night kept awake, for sinners' sake to grieve. 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 cross-wise on their breasts. V. At length burst in the argent revelry, 25 30 35 With plume, tiara, and all rich array, The brain, new-stuff'd, in youth, with triumphs gay 40 And turn, sole-thoughted, to one Lady there, As she had heard old dames full many times declare. VI. They told her how, upon St. Agnes' Eve, Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require 45 50 VII. Full of this whim was thoughtful Madeline: 55 60 Came many a tiptoe, amorous cavalier, 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. VIII. She danced along with vague regardless eyes, 65 'Mid looks of love, defiance, hate, and scorn, 70 IX. So, purposing each moment to retire, She linger'd still. Meantime, across the moors, 75 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: All eyes be muffled, or a hundred swords 80 Will storm his heart, Love's fev'rous citadel: For him, those chambers held barbarian hordes, Save one old beldame, weak in body and in soul. XI. Ah, happy chance! the aged creature came Shuffling along with ivory-headed wand, To where he stood, hid from the torch's flame, The sound of merriment and chorus bland: XII. "Get hence! get hence! there's dwarfish Hildebrand : He had a fever late, and in the fit He cursed thee and thine, both house and land: Then there's that old Lord Maurice, not a whit 85 00 95 100 166 Ah, Gossip dear, Flit like a ghost away," We're safe enough; here in this arm-chair sit, And tell me how " - Good Saints! not here, not here; Follow me, child, or else these stones will be thy bier." XIII. He follow'd through a lowly archéd way, 66 Now tell me where is Madeline," said he, 105 110 115 XIV. "St. Agnes! Ah! it is St. Agnes' Eve- God's help! my lady fair the conjuror plays This very night: good angels her deceive! But let me laugh awhile, I've mickle time to grieve." 120 125 XV. Feebly she laugheth in the languid moon, 130 But soon his eyes grew brilliant, when she told His lady's purpose; and he scarce could brook Tears, at the thought of those enchantments cold, And Madeline asleep in lap of legends old. 135 XVI. Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, 140 Sweet lady, let her pray, and sleep and dream From wicked men like thee. Go, go! I deem XVII. "I will not harm her, by all saints I swear," Quoth Porphyro: "O may I ne'er find grace 145 |