Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/129

 O'er red-hot ploughshares make me dance to please Your dotard fancies! Fathers of the church, Where is your gravity? what elder-like This fairer than Susannah would you eye? Ye call for ordeals—and I too demand The noblest ordeal, on the English host To prove in victory the mission sent From favoring Heaven. To the Pope refer For judgment! Know ye not that France even now Stands tottering on destruction!" Starting wild, With a strange look, the mission'd Maid exclaim'd, "The sword of God is here! the grave shall speak To manifest me!" Even as she spake, A pale blue flame rose from the trophied tomb Besides her. A deep silence thro' the dome Dwelt awful. Sudden from that house of death The clash of arms was heard, as tho' within The shrouded warrior shook his mailed limbs. "Hear