The eve of StAgnes . XXXIX. Hark! t is an elfin storm from faery haggard seeming, but a boon — arise! the morning is at hand;The bloated wassailers will ne\-er us away, my love, with happy speed;There are no ears to hear, or eyes to see, —Drownd all in Rhenish and the sleepy mead;Awake ! arise ! my lo\e, and fearless be,For oer the Southern moors I have a honie for thee. hurried at his words, beset with fears,For there were sleeping dragons all around,At glaring watch, perhaps, with ready the wide stairs a darkling way they found,—In all the hou
The eve of StAgnes . XXXIX. Hark! t is an elfin storm from faery haggard seeming, but a boon — arise! the morning is at hand;The bloated wassailers will ne\-er us away, my love, with happy speed;There are no ears to hear, or eyes to see, —Drownd all in Rhenish and the sleepy mead;Awake ! arise ! my lo\e, and fearless be,For oer the Southern moors I have a honie for thee. hurried at his words, beset with fears,For there were sleeping dragons all around,At glaring watch, perhaps, with ready the wide stairs a darkling way they found,—In all the house was heard no human chain-droopd lamp was flickering by each door;The arras, rich with horseman, hawk, and hound,Flutterd in the besieging winds the long carpets rose along the gusty
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublisherbosto, bookyear1885
