Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/68

 To Orleans lo! she goes—the Mission'd Maid! The Victor Hosts wither beneath her arm! And what are Crecy, Poictiers, Azincour But noisy echoes in the ear of Pride?" Ambition heard and startled on his throne; But strait a smile of savage joy illum'd His grisly features, like the sheety Burst Of Lightning o'er the awaken'd midnight clouds Wide-flash'd. For lo! a flaming pile reflects Its red light fierce and gloomy on the face Of and her goblin Son, Loud-laughing, who to the stake A female fix'd, of bold and beauteous mien, Her snow-white Limbs by iron fetters bruis'd, Her breast expos'd. JOAN saw, she saw and knew Her perfect image. Nature thro' her frame One pang shot shiv'ring; but, that frail pang soon Dismiss'd, "Even so" (the exulting Maiden said) "The sainted Heralds of Good Tidings fell, And thus they witness'd God! But now the Clouds "Treading,