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JOAN OF ARC.
Waste their wild fury, stood the unshaken man; Tho' round him prest his foemen, by Despair 380Hearten'd. He, mowing thro' the throng his path, Call'd on the troops of France, and bade them haste Where he should lead the way. A daring band Followed the adventurous Chieftain: he moved on Unterrified, amid the arrowy shower, 385Tho' on his shield and helm the darts fell fast; As the sear'd leaves that from the trembling tree The autumnal whirlwind shakes.Nor Conrade paus'd, Still thro' the fierce fight urging on his way, Till to the gate he came, and with strong hand 390Seiz'd on the massy bolts. These as he drew, Full on his helm the weighty English sword Descended; swift he turn'd to wreak his wrath, When lo! the assailant gasping on the ground, Cleft by the Maiden's falchion: she herself 395To the foe opposing with that lowly man, For they alone following the adventurous steps

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