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(From Joan of Arc)
SCARCE had the earliest ray from Chinon’s towers | |
| Made visible the mists that curled along | |
| The winding waves of Vienne, when from her couch | |
| Started the martial maid. She mailed her limbs; | |
| The white plumes nodded o’er her helmed head; | 5 |
| She girt the sacred falchion by her side, | |
| And, like some youth that from his mother’s arms, | |
| For his first field impatient, breaks away, | |
Poising the lance went forth.
Twelve hundred men, | |
| Rearing in ordered ranks their well-sharped spears, | 10 |
| Await her coming. Terrible in arms, | |
| Before them towered Dunois, his manly face | |
| Dark-shadowed by the helmet’s iron cheeks. | |
| The assembled court gazed on the marshalled train, | |
| And at the gate the aged prelate stood | 15 |
| To pour his blessing on the chosen host. | |
| And now a soft and solemn symphony | |
| Was heard, and, chanting high the hallowed hymn, | |
| From the near convent came the vestal maids. | |
| A holy banner, woven by virgin hands, | 20 |
| Snow-white they bore. A mingled sentiment | |
| Of awe, and eager ardor for the fight, | |
| Thrilled through the troops, as he the reverend man | |
| Took the white standard, and with heavenward eye | |
| Called on the God of Justice, blessing it. | 25 |
| The Maid, her brows in reverence unhelmed, | |
| Her dark hair floating on the morning gale, | |
| Knelt to his prayer, and, stretching forth her hand, | |
| Received the mystic ensign. From the host | |
| A loud and universal shout burst forth, | 30 |
| As rising from the ground, on her white brow | |
| She placed the plumed casque, and waved on high | |
| The bannered lilies. On their way they march, | |
| And dim in distance, soon the towers of Chinon | |
| Fade from the eye reverted. | 35 |
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