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 were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while... Time's Telescope - Page 531830Full view - About this book
| Karl Kroeber, Gene W. Ruoff - Poetry - 1993 - 520 pages
...the chapel's piercing cold prepares a series of contrasts the poem is steadily to develop and expand. St. Agnes' Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl,...frozen grass. And silent was the flock in woolly fold: Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath. Like pious... | |
| Garrett Hardin - Business & Economics - 1995 - 350 pages
...Should we, then, rewrite literature to take account of this insight of physics? Keats, remember, wrote: St. Agnes' Eve — Ah bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold — when, had he possessed the knowledge of physics that developed soon after his death — the knowledge... | |
| Stuart M. Sperry - Literary Criticism - 1994 - 376 pages
...the chapel's piercing cold prepares a series of contrasts the poem is steadily to develop and expand. St. Agnes' Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl,...frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold: Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious... | |
| Rutherford Aris - Technology & Engineering - 1994 - 300 pages
...effective had he left the reader to judge the conditions from the plain statement of the first line: 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 was the flock in wooly fold. The second line,... | |
| John Keats, Robert Gittings - Literary Collections - 1995 - 324 pages
...help his prayers. 7 censer - container for incense. 1 6 orot Vies - places where prayers are said. ST. AGNES' EVE — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl,...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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