Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/70

 And meteor-lighted dome. An Isle appear'd, It's high, o'erhanging, rough, broad-breasted cliffs Glass'd on the subject ocean. A vast plain Stretch'd opposite, where ever and anon The Ploughman following sad his meagre team Turn'd up fresh skulls unstartled, and the bones Of fierce, hate-breathing Combatants, who there All mingled lay beneath the common earth, Death's gloomy reconcilement! O'er the fields Stepp'd a fair Form repairing all she might, Her temples olive-wreath'd; and where she trod, Fresh flowrets rose and many a foodful herb. But wan her cheek, her footsteps insecure, And anxious pleasure beam'd in her faint eye, As she had newly left a couch of pain, Pale Convalescent! (Yet some time to rule With power exclusive o'er the willing world, That blest prophetic Mandate then fulfill'd, be on earth!) An happy while but brief She seem'd to wander with assiduous feet, And