猫头鹰披着厚羽也周身寒冷；
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;
野兔颤抖着拐过冰冻的草叶，
The hare limped trembling through the frozen grass,
羊群拥挤在羊栏里，寂静无声：
And silent was the flock in woolly fold:
祈福人数着念珠的手指已经
Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told
冻僵，他呼出的热气凝成白雾，
His rosary, and while his frosted breath,
像古铜炉里敬神的香烟上升，
Like pious incense from a censer old,
没一刻停滞，向天空袅袅飞去，
Seemed taking flight for heaven, without a death,
飘过圣母的画像——他不断把祷辞念出。
Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith.
这个耐心的祈福人做完祷告；
His prayer he saith, this patient, holy man;
提起油灯，从跪着的地方起身，
Then takes his lamp, and riseth from his knees,
他回头走去，清癯，赤足，又疲劳，
And back returneth, meagre, barefoot, wan,
沿着教堂的夹道，缓缓地行进：
Along the chapel aisle by slow degrees:
两旁死者的塑像似已冻成冰，
The sculptured dead, on each side, seem to freeze,
似在黑色炼狱的围栏里坐牢：
Imprisoned in black, purgatorial rails:
骑士和贵妇，默默地祈求神灵，
Knights, ladies, praying in dumb orat'ries,
他从旁经过；神志疲弱，想不到
He passeth by; and his weak spirit fails
冷的头巾和铠甲把他们冻得受不了。
To think how they may ache in icy hoods and mails.
穿过了一扇小门，他转身向北，
Northward he turneth through a little door,
还没走三步，传来了音乐悠扬，
And scarce three steps, ere music's golden tongue
可怜的老人听了便流下喜泪；
Flattered to tears this aged man and poor;
但是呵，且慢——丧钟已为他敲响：
But no—already had his deathbell rung;
他此生的欢乐已被说完，唱光：
The joys of all his life were said and sung:
在圣亚尼节前夕，他该去忏悔：
His was harsh penance on St. Agnes' Eve:
于是他走向另一个地方，马上
Another way he went, and soon among