BOOK THE TENTH.
371
She waved her hand, and Silence still'd the host.
Then thus the mission'd Maid, "Fellows in arms!
We must not speed to joyful victory,
Whilst our unburied comrades, on yon plain,
Allure the carrion bird. Give we this day 35
To our dead friends!"
Nor did she speak in vain;
For as she spake the thirst of battle dies
In every breast, such awe and love pervade
The listening troops. They o'er the corse-strewn plain
Speed to their sad employment: some dig deep 40
The house of Death; some bear the lifeless load;
One little troop search carefully around,
If haply they might find surviving yet
Some wounded wretches. As they labour thus,
They mark far off the iron-blaze of arms; 45
See distant standards waving on the air,
And hear the clarion's clang. Then spake the Maid
To Conrade, and she bade him speed to view
The coming army; or to meet their march
Then thus the mission'd Maid, "Fellows in arms!
We must not speed to joyful victory,
Whilst our unburied comrades, on yon plain,
Allure the carrion bird. Give we this day 35
To our dead friends!"
Nor did she speak in vain;
For as she spake the thirst of battle dies
In every breast, such awe and love pervade
The listening troops. They o'er the corse-strewn plain
Speed to their sad employment: some dig deep 40
The house of Death; some bear the lifeless load;
One little troop search carefully around,
If haply they might find surviving yet
Some wounded wretches. As they labour thus,
They mark far off the iron-blaze of arms; 45
See distant standards waving on the air,
And hear the clarion's clang. Then spake the Maid
To Conrade, and she bade him speed to view
The coming army; or to meet their march
With
