regions and also of heaven, sea, 1. A group of islands in the Aegean Sea, off and earth (the realms of Jove, Neptune, and Pan, Greece. Keats's allusion is to his ignorance of the lines 6-8). Greek language. Schooling in Greek was a badge 1. St. Agnes, martyred ca. 303 at the age of thirof gentlemanly identity in the period. teen, is the patron saint of virgins. Legend has it 2. In late pagan cults Diana was worshiped as a that if a chaste young woman performs the proper
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THE EVE OF ST. AGNES / 889
The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold: Numb were the Beadsman's2 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.
2
His prayer he saith, this patient, holy man; Then takes his lamp, and riseth from his knees, And back returneth, meagre,0 barefoot, wan, lean Along the chapel aisle by slow degrees: The sculptur'd dead, on each side, seem to freeze, Emprison'd in black, purgatorial rails: Knights, ladies, praying in dumb0 orat'ries,0 silent /chapels He passeth by; and his weak spirit fails
To think' how they may ache in icy hoods and mails.
3
Northward he turneth through a little door, And scarce three steps, ere Music's golden tongue Flatter'd0 to tears this aged man and poor; beguiled But no?already had his deathbell rung; The joys of all his life were said and sung: His was harsh penance on St. Agnes' Eve: Another way he went, and soon among Rough ashes sat he for his soul's reprieve,0 salvation
And all night kept awake, for sinners' sake to grieve.
4
That ancient Beadsman heard the prelude soft; And so it chanc'd, for many a door was wide, From hurry to and fro. Soon, up aloft, The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide: The level chambers, ready with their pride,0 ostentation Were glowing to receive a thousand guests: The carved angels, ever eager-eyed, Star'd, where upon their heads the cornice rests,
With hair blown back, and wings put cross-wise on their breasts.
5
At length burst in the argent revelry,4 With plume, tiara, and all rich array, Numerous as shadows haunting fairily The brain, new stuff'd, in youth, with triumphs gay Of old romance.0 These let us wish away, stories And turn, sole-thoughted, to one Lady there,
ritual, she will dream of her future husband on the 26 and 30 of The Eve of St. Agnes, see 'Poems in evening before St. Agnes's Day, January 21. Keats Process,' in the appendices to this volume. combines this superstition with the Romeo and 2. One who is paid to pray for his benefactor. He Juliet theme of young love thwarted by feuding 'tells' (counts) the beads of his rosary to keep track families and tells the story in a sequence of evolv-of his prayers. ing Spenserian stanzas. The poem is Keats's first 3. I.e., when he thinks. complete success in sustained narrative romance. 4. Silver-adorned revelers. For the author's revisions while composing stanzas
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89 0 / JOHN KEATS
Whose heart had brooded, all that wintry day,
On love, and wing'd St. Agnes' saintly care, As she had heard old dames full many times declare.
6 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.
7
Full of this whim was thoughtful Madeline:
The music, yearning like a god in pain,
She scarcely heard: her maiden eyes divine,
Fix'd on the floor, saw many a sweeping train5
Pass by?she heeded not at all: in vain
Came many a tiptoe, amorous cavalier,
And back retir'd, 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.
8 She danc'd along with vague, regardless eyes, Anxious her lips, her breathing quick and short: The hallow'd hour was near at hand: she sighs Amid the timbrels,0 and the throng'd resort tambourines Of whisperers in anger, or in sport; 'Mid looks of love, defiance, hate, and scorn, Hoodwink'd with faery fancy; all amort, Save to St. Agnes6 and her lambs unshorn,7 And all the bliss to be before to-morrow morn.
9
So, purposing each moment to retire,
She linger'd still. Meantime, across the moors,
