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" St Agnes' Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold... "
Time's Telescope for ... ; Or, A Complete Guide to the Almanack - 12. oldal
1823
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

Contributions to the Edinburgh Review by Francis Jeffrey, 2. kötet

Lord Francis Jeffrey Jeffrey - 1846
...St. Agnes Eve ! Ah, bitter cold it was ! The owl, for all his feathers, was acold ; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold ! Numb were the bedesman's fingers, while he told His rosary ; and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from...

Contributions to the Edinburgh Review

Lord Francis Jeffrey Jeffrey - 1846 - 762 oldal
...bitter cold it was ! The owl, for all his feathers, was acold ; The hare limp'd trembling through ihe frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold ! Numb were the bedesman's fingers, while he told His rosary ; and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from...

Half-hours with the best authors, selected by C. Knight, 4. kötet

Half hours - 1847
...Agnes' Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was ! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was...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...

The Poetical Works of Howitt, Milman, and Keats: Complete in One Volume

Mary Botham Howitt - 1847 - 221 oldal
...AGNES' EVE — Ah, hitter chill it was ! The owl. for all his feathers, was n-cold ; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass. And silent was the flock in woolly fold : Numb wore the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Likf pious incense...

The Eclectic Review, 24. kötet;88. kötet

Samuel Greatheed, Daniel Parken, Theophilus Williams, Josiah Conder, Thomas Price, Jonathan Edwards Ryland, Edwin Paxton Hood - 1848
...chill it was ! The owl, for all his feathers was a cold ; The hare limped trembling through the frosted grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold. Numb...from a censer old. Seemed taking flight for heaven.' And then the description of the maiden, and her silent anxieties : — ' As though a tongueless nightingale...

The Keepsake for ....

1849
...HOGMANAY.* " St. Agnes' Eve. Ah, bitter chill it was ! The owl for all his feathers was a-cold; The hare limped trembling through the frozen grass; And silent...the beadsman's fingers while he told His rosary, and white his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seemed taking flight for heaven without...

Imagination and Fancy: Or, Selections from the English Poets, Illustrative ...

Leigh Hunt - 1851 - 255 oldal
...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 ' His prayer he saith, this patient, holy man, Then takes his lamp, and riseth from his knees, And...

The boys' own story-book, by the best authors

Boys - 1852
...Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ; The hare limp'd tremhling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock...Beadsman's fingers while he told His rosary, and while his frosty breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking flight for heaven without a death,...

The art of skating, by Cyclos

George Anderson (of Glasgow.) - 1852
...creaks under foot ; " Ah ! bitter chill it was. " The owl, for all his feathers, was a cold ; " The hare limped trembling through the frozen grass, " And silent was the flock in woolly fold ;" and when pond, and lake, and river are coated with a strong and slippery surface — then there...

The Modern British Essayists: Jeffrey, Francis. Contributions to the ...

1852
...bitter cold it was ! The owl, for all his feathers, was acold ; The hare limp'd trembling through ihe frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold ! Numb were the bedesman's fingers, while he told His rosary ; and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from...




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