376
JOAN OF ARC.
Sublime amid the storm shall France arise,
And like the rock amid surrounding waves,
Repel the rushing ocean—she shall wield
The thunderbolt of vengeance—she shall blast 130
The Despots that assail her."
As she ceas'd,
Such murmur from the multitude arose,
As when at twilight hour the summer breeze
Moves o'er the elmy vale: there was not one
Who mourn'd with feeble sorrow for his friend, 135
Slain in the fight of Freedom; or if chance
Remembrance with a tear suffus'd the eye
The Patriot's joy flash'd thro'.
And now the rites
Of sepulture perform'd, the hymn to Heaven
They chaunted. To the town the Maid return'd, 140
Dunois with her, and Richemont, and the man,
Conrade, whose converse most the Virgin loved.
They of pursuit and of the future war
Sat communing; when loud the trumpet's voice
And like the rock amid surrounding waves,
Repel the rushing ocean—she shall wield
The thunderbolt of vengeance—she shall blast 130
The Despots that assail her."
As she ceas'd,
Such murmur from the multitude arose,
As when at twilight hour the summer breeze
Moves o'er the elmy vale: there was not one
Who mourn'd with feeble sorrow for his friend, 135
Slain in the fight of Freedom; or if chance
Remembrance with a tear suffus'd the eye
The Patriot's joy flash'd thro'.
And now the rites
Of sepulture perform'd, the hymn to Heaven
They chaunted. To the town the Maid return'd, 140
Dunois with her, and Richemont, and the man,
Conrade, whose converse most the Virgin loved.
They of pursuit and of the future war
Sat communing; when loud the trumpet's voice
Proclaim'd
