Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/18

 Now rais'd the unheeded voice. Swift as the storm Tremendous urges o'er the dangerous cape His sweeping pinions, rush'd the steed; for deep The heavy-hanging arrow's barbed point Gor'd his red flank. Impatient of defeat Shame and Revenge boil'd in the Bastard's breast. Adown his batter'd arms the tide of life Roll'd purpling; soon its grasp the nerveless hand Relax'd, and faint and fainter wax his limbs. Dim rolls the shadowy eye—he droops—he falls. Chill drop the dews of night. The new-born sun Refulgent smiles around. From trance reviv'd In dubious life Dunois unseals his eyes, And views a Form with mildly-melting gaze Hang o'er his wounds: loose to the morning breeze Waved her brown hair, and on her rubied cheek Hung Pity's crystal gem. Fearful awhile Lest wandering Fancy's unsubstantial shapes Had mock'd the vagrant sense, silent he gaz'd, And