Had come young Porphyro, with heart on fire
For Madeline. Beside the portal doors,
Buttress'd from moonlight,8 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.
10 He ventures in: let no buzz'd whisper tell: All eyes be muffled, or a hundred swords
5. Skirts sweeping along the ground. lambs' wool at the altar, to be made into cloth by 6. Entirely oblivious or dead ('amort') to every-nuns. thing except St. Agnes. 'Hoodwinked': covered by 8. Sheltered from the moonlight by the buttresses a hood or blindfolded. (the supports projecting from the wall). 7. On St. Agnes's Day it was the custom to offer
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THE EVE OF ST. AGNES / 891
Will storm his heart, Love's fev'rous citadel:
85 For him, those chambers held barbarian hordes, Hyena foemen, and hot-blooded lords, Whose very dogs would execrations howl Against his lineage: not one breast affords Him any mercy, in that mansion foul,
90 Save one old beldame,9 weak in body and in soul.
11
Ah, happy chance! the aged creature came, Shuffling along with ivory-headed wand,? staff To where he stood, hid from the torch's flame,
Behind a broad hall-pillar, far beyond
95 The sound of merriment and chorus bland:0 soft He startled her; but soon she knew his face, And grasp'd his fingers in her palsied hand, Saying, 'Mercy, Porphyro! hie thee from this place;
They are all here to-night, the whole blood-thirsty race!
12
IOO '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 More tame for his gray hairs?Alas me! flit!
105 Flit like a ghost away.'?'Ah, Gossip1 dear, 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.'? tomb
!3 He follow'd through a lowly arched way,
i IO Brushing the cobwebs with his lofty plume, And as she mutter'd 'Well-a?well-a-day!' He found him in a little moonlight room, Pale, lattic'd, chill, and silent as a tomb. 'Now tell me where is Madeline,' said he,
115 'O tell me, Angela, by the holy loom Which none but secret sisterhood may see, When they St. Agnes' wool are weaving piously.'
'4
'St. Agnes! Ah! it is St. Agnes' Eve? Yet men will murder upon holy days:
120 Thou must hold water in a witch's sieve,2 And be liege-lord of all the Elves and Fays, To venture so: it fills me with amaze To see thee, Porphyro!?St. Agnes' Eve! God's help! my lady fair the conjuror plays3
125 This very night: good angels her deceive! But let me laugh awhile, I've mickle0 time to grieve.' much
9. Old (and, usually, homely) woman; an ironic 2. A sieve made to hold water by witchcraft. development in English from the French meaning, 3. I.e., uses magic in her attempt to evoke the 'lovely lady.' vision of her lover. !. In the old sense: godmother or old friend.
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89 2 / JOHN KEATS
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Feebly she laugheth in the languid moon, While Porphyro upon her face doth look, Like puzzled urchin on an aged crone
130 Who keepeth clos'd a wond'rous riddle-book, As spectacled she sits in chimney nook. But soon his eyes grew brilliant, when she told His lady's purpose; and he scarce could brook0 restrain Tears, at the thought of those enchantments cold,
135 And Madeline asleep in lap of legends old.
16
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:
140 'A cruel man and impious thou art: Sweet lady, let her pray, and sleep, and dream Alone with her good
