Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/36

 But welcomed me even with a mother's smile. Here past my unruffled days. Sometimes at morn With pleasing toil to drive the woolly flock To verdant mead or stream, sometimes to ease The lowing cattle of their milky load, My grateful task; as with a parent's love Would Eleanor partake each peaceful hour. Hours of delight, ye are for ever gone! I shall no more with chearful toil prepare The rural cates for high solemnity At holy hour; no more amid the dance Move in brisk measures with the blameless train. The cot's calm quiet and the village sports These leave I willingly, these do I change For the camp's din, the clangor of the war, The pomp of slaughter: such the high command Of Duty; that command I shall obey.

"Dunois! I dwelt in happiness, my soul Slumber'd; and never feeling wretchedness "I never