Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/259

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The chilly sunset faintly told Of unmatured green, valley cold, Of the green thorny bloomless hedge, Of rivers new with spring-tide sedge, Of primroses by shelter'd rills, And daisies on the aguish hills. Twice holy was the Sabbath-bell: The silent streets were crowded well With staid and pious companies, Warm from their fire-side orat'ries; And moving, with demurest air, To even-song, and vesper prayer. Each arched porch, and entry low, Was fill'd with patient folk and slow, With whispers hush, and shuflfling feet, While play'd the organ loud and sweet. The bells had ceased, the prayers begun, And Bertha had not yet half done A curious volume, patch'd and torn, That all day long, from earliest morn, Had taken captive her two eyes, Among its golden broideries; Perplexed her with a thousand things, The stars of Heaven, and angels' wings, Martyrs in a fiery blaze, Azure saints and silver rays, Moses' breastplate, and the seven Candlesticks John saw in Heaven, The winged Lion of Saint Mark, And the Covenantal Ark, With its many mysteries. Cherubim and golden mice.