Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/43

 Death never rested, and the morning sun Made steam the fearful havoc of the night; 'Till at the break of day I slept; nor then Repos'd my heated brain; for to my view Arose strange forms, sent as I do believe From the Most High. I saw a town hemm'd in Like Harfleur, round with enemies begirt, Where Famine on a heap of carcasses Half envious of the unutterable feast Mark'd the gorg'd raven clog his beak with gore. I turn'd me then to the besieger's camp, And there was revelry: the loud lewd laugh Burst on mine ears, and I beheld the chiefs Even at their feast plan the device of Death. My soul grew sick within me: then methought From a dark lowering cloud, the womb of tempests, A giant arm burst forth, and dropt a sword That pierc'd like lightning thro' the midnight air. Then was there heard a voice, which in mine ear Shall echo, at that hour of dreadful joy "When