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.