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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
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Merriam-Webster's Encyclopedia of Literature

Merriam-Webster, Inc, MERRIAM-WEBSTER STAFF, Encyclopaedia Britannica Publishers, Inc. Staff - 1995 - 1236 oldal
...John Keats's poem "The Eve of St. Agnes": Numb were the beadsman's Hngers, while he told His rosar), and while his frosted breath. Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking (light for heaven, without a death. Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer...
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John Keats and the Loss of Romantic Innocence

Keith D. White - 1996 - 194 oldal
...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...
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Mathematical Modeling: A Chemical Engineer's Perspective

Rutherford Aris - 1999 - 479 oldal
...Agnes." 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...death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayers he saith. It is so consummately, even if somewhat fulsomely, done that we shiver with the owl,...
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Mathematical Modeling: A Chemical Engineer's Perspective

Rutherford Aris - 1999 - 479 oldal
...Agnes." 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...Like pious incense from a censer old. Seemed taking fIight for heaven, without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayers he saith. It...
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Reading The Eve of St.Agnes: The Multiples of Complex Literary Transaction

Jack Stillinger - 1999 - 200 oldal
...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; 5 Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious...
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The Discovery of Poetry: A Field Guide to Reading and Writing Poems

Frances Mayes - 2001 - 494 oldal
...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...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...
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Summer's House: A Novel

Eric Gabriel Lehman - 2000 - 288 oldal
..."Welcome to King ArAh, 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 . . . "Great poem for the summer, don't you think? Keats." Her talk was a cool wave washing over me...
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The Cambridge Companion to Keats

Susan J. Wolfson, Wolfson Susan J. - 2001 - 272 oldal
...such as the old Beadsman - whose "frosted breath, / Like pious incense from a censer old, / Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death, / Past the sweet Virgin's picture" (6-9) - looks like a still-life, deader than the picture of the Virgin. His breath is the only seeming...
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Keats ou le sortilège des mots

Christian La Cassagnère, Université de Lyon II. Centre d'études et de recherches anglaises et nord-américaines. Centre du romantisme anglais - 2003 - 254 oldal
...essential meaning, dropped with a light touch, especially in thé stanza's concluding lines: Numb were thé Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and...frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking flight from heaven, without a death, Past thé sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer...
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A Routledge Literary Sourcebook on the Poems of John Keats

John R. Strachan - 2003 - 198 oldal
...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:17 Numb were the Beadsman's18 fingers, while he told19 His rosary, and while his frosted breath,...
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