Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/91

 That he can hear the groan of wretchedness And feel no fleshly pang! Why did the All-Good Create these warrior scourges of mankind, These who delight in slaughter? I did think There was not on this earth a heart so hard Could hear a famish'd woman cry For bread, And know no pity. As the outcast train Drew near, the English Monarch bade his troops Force back the miserable multitude. They drove them to the walls—it was the depth Of Winter—we had no relief to grant. The aged ones groan'd to our foe in vain, The mother pleaded for her dying child And they felt no remorse!" The Mission'd Maid Starts from her seat—"The old and the infirm "The