On St Agnes Eve, January 20th, a young girl can experience a dream vision of her future husband, so the lore tells us, if she follows a carefully prescribed ritual: Fast all day, and bathe before preparing for bed. Sprinkle water onto a sprig of rosemary and a sprig of thyme, and place the herbs in your shoes. Position the pair of shoes on each side of your pillow. Enter your bed naked, look skyward, and chant the following, “St. Agnes, who’s to lovers kind, come ease the troubles of my mind.”
In his short life, John Keats (1795-1821) wrote The Eve of St. Agnes, the most sensuously beautiful poem possible about the custom of imploring a dream vision from the saint:
“Young virgins might have visions of delight, And soft adoring 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.”
While the heroine Madeline is asleep, an enraptured Porphyro, sworn enemy of her family, gazes upon her. Listen to Keats’ mouthwatering description:
“And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep, In blanched linen, smooth, and lavender’d, While he from forth the closet brought a heap Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd; With jellies soother than the creamy curd, And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon; Manna and dates, in argosy transferr’d From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one, From silken Samarcand to cedar’d Lebanon.”
The heroine’s dream becomes reality, ending with painful nostalgia as we are reminded that Madeline and Porphyro lived and died centuries before:
“And they are gone: aye, ages long ago These lovers fled away….”
The patron saint of chastity, virgins, girls, engaged couples, and rape victims, St Agnes was a martyr in Roman times, 301 A.D. At age thirteen she was beheaded for refusing to marry the son of a Roman official, proclaiming herself already married to God. Another version of the story tells that the law objected to the execution of virgins, and she was instead dragged naked through the streets and delivered unto a brothel. The men who propositioned her were inevitably struck blind due to her purity. St. Agnes is often portrayed holding a lamb. Other than Mary, she is one of only seven females named in the Catholic Mass.
Pagan origins of St. Agnes can be found in the Danish goddess Yngona whose sacred day was January 21st. As a crone goddess, her role was to destroy old, outworn forms. Yngona later morphed into St. Agnes, with the Church usurping Yngona’s holy day and superimposing onto it St. Agnes Day.
Our next Mythic Monday will explore the fascinating connection of St. Agnes and Yngona with the terrifying bogeywoman Black Annis.
More: http://www.bartleby.com/126/39.html
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/4291495/Looking-for-a-husband-Pray-to-St-Agnes….html
http://feastsandfestivals.blogspot.com/2013/01/20th-january-eve-of-st-agnes.html (This blogger shares a lovely baked tart recipe inspired by Keats’ poem.)
Wonderful post, Flossie. I’m fascinated by magic lore. When I was young and single, I often thought about doing this ritual…but it seemed a bit complicated. I do believe in magic, you know. I believe there’s an incredible source of power in the universe and that each of us can draw upon it. I’m so grateful to you for believing, too, and for sharing the magic with others.
The magic of love is what keeps me going! I think otherwise we’d be shriveled up shells of ourselves. I’m so glad to know you have the faith too of opening to that immense source. It’s evident in the way you perform your work.
Fascinating. I didn’t know all these details about St. Agnes and I’m Catholic, LOL! What a remarkably strong and committed woman. I also didn’t realize Keats died so young. His poetry is beautiful.
I can’t wait to see the post on Black Annis. What a malevolent creature! *shudder*
I like how St. Agnes is strong and resilient. Although a virgin who never knoew married love, she protects couples and allows young girls to see the vision of her future husband. It is hard to believe Keats wrote such beautiful poetry all before age 26. Along with Yeats, he’s my favorite.