Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/173

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
BOOK THE FIFTH.
161
"Missioned Maid!"The warrior cried, "be happy! for thy power 70Can make this wanderer so. From Orleans driven,Orphan'd by war, and torn away from oneHer only friend, I found her in the wilds,Worn out with want and wretchedness. Thou, JOAN,Wilt his beloved to the youth restore. 75And, trust me Maid! the miserable feelWhen they on others bestow happinessHigh joys and soul-ennobling."She replied,Pressing the damsel's hand, in the mild toneOf equal friendship, solacing her cares. 80"Soon shall we enter Orleans," said the Maid;A few hours in her dream of victoryEngland shall triumph; then to be awak'dBy the loud thunder of Almighty wrath!Irksome meantime the busy camp to me 85A solitary woman. Isabel,Wert thou the while companion of my tent,

"Lightly

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.