Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/37

 I never dreamt of what the wretched feel. The night was comfortless; the loud blasts howl'd, And as we sat around the social hearth We heard the rain beat hard: driven by the storm A warrior mark'd our distant taper's light. We heapt the fire: the friendly board was spread: The bowl of hospitality went round. The storm beats hard," the stranger cried "safe hous'd Pleasant it is to hear the pelting rain. I too were well content to dwell in peace, Resting my head upon the lap of Love, But that my country calls. When the winds roar, Remember sometimes what a soldier suffers, And think of Conrade." "Theodore replied, Success go with thee. Something I have seen Of war, and of its dreadful ravages. My soul was sick at such ferocity; And I am well content to dwell in peace Albeit inglorious, thanking that good God Rh