THE EVE OF ST. AGNES. I. ST. AGNES' Eve Ah, bitter chill it was !A The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, B Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told В 5 His rosary, and while his frosted breath, C Like pious incense from a censer old, B Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith. C II. His prayer he saith, this patient, holy man; Then takes his lamp, and riseth from his knees, Along the chapel aisle by slow degrees: The sculptured dead, on each side, seem to freeze, 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 deathbell rung; ΙΟ 15 20 The joys of all his life were said and sung: Rough ashes sat he for his soul's reprieve, IV. That ancient Beadsman heard the prelude soft; Star'd, 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, The brain, new stuff'd, in youth, with triumphs gay 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, 25 30 35 40 45 If ceremonies due they did aright; As, supperless to bed they must retire, And couch supine their beauties, lily white; Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire. 50 VII. Full of this whim was thoughtful Madeline : Came many a tiptoe, amorous cavalier, But she saw not: her heart was otherwhere : She sigh'd for Agnes' dreams, the sweetest of the year. VIII. She danc'd along with vague, regardless eyes, 55 60 65 The hallowed hour was near at hand: she sighs Amid the timbrels, and the thronged resort 70 IX. So, purposing each moment to retire, She linger'd still. Meantime, across the moors, Buttress'd from moonlight, stands he, and implores 75 All saints to give him sight of Madeline, Perchance speak, kneel, touch, kiss-in sooth such things have been. X. 80 He ventures in: let no buzzed whisper tell: For him, those chambers held barbarian hordes, 85 Whose very dogs would execrations howl Against his lineage: not one breast affords Him any mercy, in that mansion foul, Save one old beldame, weak in body and in soul. 90 XI. Ah, happy chance! the aged creature came, To where he stood, hid from the torch's flame, The sound of merriment and chorus bland: 95 XII. "Get hence! get hence! there's dwarfish Hildebrand; 100 He had a fever late, and in the fit He cursed thee and thine, both house and land: More tame for his gray hairs — Alas me! flit! Flit like a ghost away."-"Ah, Gossip dear, 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 arched way, XIV. St. Agnes! Ah! it is St. Agnes' Eve — 105 IIO 115 120 125 XV. Feebly she laugheth in the languid moon, 130 |