Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/248

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JOAN OF ARC.
He hung, and seized the spear; then in himselfCollected stood, and calm. Nor the English KnightRemain'd unweapon'd: to have sped so ill,Indignant, from behind he snatch'd a lance 305And hurl'd with fiercer fury. Conrade liftsThe ponderous buckler. Thro' three iron foldsPierced the keen point, there, innocent of illUnharming hung. He with forceful grasp,Plucking the javelin forth, with mightier arm, 310Launch'd on his foe. With wary bend, the foeShrunk from the flying death; yet not in vainFrom that strong hand the fate-fraught weapon fled:Full on the corselet of a meaner manIt fell, and pierced, there where the heaving lungs, 315With purer air distended, to the heartRoll back their purged tide: from the deep woundThe red blood gush'd: prone on the steps he fell,And in the strong convulsive grasp of deathGrasp'd his long pike. Of unrecorded name 320Died the mean man; yet did he leave behind

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