ILLUSTRATIONS. When they St. Agnes' wool are weaving piously The owl, for all his feathers, was a cold. Meantime, across the moors, had come young Porphyro . And grasp'd his fingers in her palsied hand He follow'd through a lowly arched way While legion'd fairies paced the coverlet . She turn'd, and down the aged gossip led As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon And 'tween the curtains peep'd ENGRAVED BY HORACE HARRAL, THOMAS BOLTON, AND ST. AGNES' Eve-Ah, bitter chill it was! Seem'd taking flight for heaven without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith. |