Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/141

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BOOK THE FOURTH
129
Rear'd to St. Catharine's holy memory. 105Her death the altar told, what time expos'dA virgin victim to the despot's rage,The agonizing rack outstretch'd her limbs,Till the strain'd muscles crack'd, and from their socketsStarted the blood-red eyes. Before her stood 110Glutting his iron sight, the giant formOf Maximin, on whose rais'd lip RevengeKindled a savage smile; whilst even the faceOf the hard executioner relax'd,And sternly soften'd to a maiden tear. 115
 Her eye averting from the storied woe, The delegated damsel knelt and pour'd To Heaven the prayer of praise.A trophied tomb Close to the altar rear'd its antique bulk. Two pointless javelins and a broken sword, 120Time-mouldering now, proclaim'd some warrior slept The sleep of death beneath. A massy stone

And

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