Old Aubrey has a recipe, whereby a lad or lass was to attain a sight of
the fortunate lover. “Upon St. Agnes’ night you take a row of pins, and
pull out every one, one after another, saying a Pater Noster, sticking a
pin in your sleeve, and you will dream of him or her you shall marry.”
Little is remembered of these homely methods for knowing “all about
sweethearts,” and the custom would scarcely have reached the greater
number of readers, if one of the sweetest of our modern poets had not
preserved its recollection in a delightful poem. Some stanzas are culled
from it, with the hope that they may be read by a few to whom the poetry
of Keats is unknown, and awaken a desire for further acquaintance with
his beauties:--
_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.
* * * * *
They told her how, upon St. Agnes’ Eve,
Young virgins might have visions of delight,
And soft adorings from their loves receive
Upon the honey’d middle of the night,
If ceremonies due they did aright;
As, supperless to bed they must retire,
And couch supine their beauties, lily white;
Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require
Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.
* * * * *