Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/27

 The wasted plain, in want and wretchedness. Feebly I followed; one who knew and lov'd My fallen father, fav'd his helpless child. Long time he journeyed on in hopes to gain Beyond old Arden, in his sister's home A safe asylum; and we now had reach'd The wood, with many a painful day's hard toil, When by the rankling wound that prey'd upon him Worn out, he fell. "My agonizing shrieks Pierced thro' the forest, and a holy man Drew near: he bore him to his rock-roof'd cell, And many a precious balm, and virtuous herb The aged leech applied; his earthly cares Were fruitless, for worn nature sunk to rest. Yet of a Judge, all just, all merciful, A of, inspir'd the hermit told, And