 | 614 pàgines
...sight, Some of hnsbandi, some of lovers, Which an empty dream discovers." The Eve of St. Agnes.— " Ah ! bitter chill it was ! The owl for all his feathers was a cold, The hare limped trembling through the frozen grass , Numb were the bead's-man's fingers while... | |
 | William Hone - 1825 - 842 pàgines
...awaken a desire for further acquaintance with his beauties : — TTke Ere of 81. Agna. St. Agnes' Eve t ved a very strong letter against him, which letter his grace sent t ; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grits, And silent was the flock in woolly fold : They... | |
 | 1830 - 472 pàgines
...made it the subject of one of his sweet and original poems. The following are a few stanzas from it. 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. * •***'*... | |
 | 1871 - 928 pàgines
...James Ashbury to the fore, is as nearly as possible barren of interest. That long winter interregnum " Ah, bitter chill it was ! The owl, for all his feathers, was a cold ;" is yet scarcely at an end, the lamb and mint sauce notwithstanding, albeit balls and rumours... | |
 | Thomas Miller - 1837 - 466 pàgines
...their flowers. — But we are forgetting the gloominess of winter — the nights we have braved : " 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. * *... | |
 | 742 pàgines
...for perfection in intellectual labour. — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. THE GARDEN.— JANUARY. " Ah bitter chill it was ! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ; The hare liuip'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold." KEATS.... | |
 | 740 pàgines
...passion as yet unsounded ; so I seized the first probe I could lay hands on. When he began : " ' Saint Agnes' Eve. Ah ! bitter chill it was '. The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold,' " I lounged in the window-seat, and made as if I were watching the clouds, until he read to where Porphyro... | |
 | 1840 - 528 pàgines
...years? Why were they proud? again we ask aloud, Why in the name of Glory were they proud? A CATHEDRAL. 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 : Numb... | |
 | John Keats - 1841 - 254 pàgines
...did mourn In pity of her love, so overcast. And a sad ditty of this story born THE EVE OF ST. AGNES. 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 : Numb... | |
 | 1842 - 818 pàgines
...is a delightful and original performance. What an idea of cold the first stanza conveys: St. Agnw' 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 : Numb... | |
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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... 
