The silver snarling trumpets 'gan to chide.
The Eve of St. Agnes. Stanza 4.
Asleep in lap of legends old.
The Eve of St. Agnes. Stanza 15.
Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose,
Flushing his brow.
The Eve of St. Agnes. Stanza 16.
A poor, weak, palsy-stricken, churchyard thing.
The Eve of St. Agnes. Stanza 18.
As though a rose should shut and be a bud again.