Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/114

 Wielding the wrathful weapon, from whose death, Their stern hearts palsied by the arm of God, Far from Orleans shall the English wolves Speed their disastrous flight. Monarch of France! Spread the good tidings through thy ravag'd realm. The Maid is come—the mission'd Maid—whose hand Shall in the consecrated walls of Rheims Place on thy head the crown." In wonder mute The courtiers heard. The astonish'd King exclaim'd "This is indeed the agency of Heaven! Hard, Maiden, were I of belief," he cried, "Did I not now with full and confirm'd faith Thee the redeemer of this ravag'd realm Believe. Not doubting therefore the strange will Of the all-wise, nor those high miracles Vouch'd by the Son of Orleans, do I now Delay to marshal the brave sons of France Beneath thy banners; but to satisfy Those who at distance from this most clear proof "May