Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/263

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BOOK THE SEVENTH.
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Now as he marks the Earl's descending stroke 585Bending, anon more fierce in swift attack.Ill-fated man! one deed of glory moreShall with the short-lived lightning's splendor graceThis thy death-day; for Slaughter even nowStands o'er the loom of life, and lifts his sword. 590
Upon her shield the Martial Maiden bore An English warrior's blow, and in his side Pierced him: that instant Salisbury speeds his sword That glancing from her helm fell on the folds That arm'd her neck, and making there its way, 595Stain'd with her blood its edge. The Herald saw, He saw her red blood gushing from the wound, And turn'd from Talbot heedless of himself, And lifting up his falchion, all his force Concenter'd. On the breast of Salisbury 600It fell, and pierced his mail, and thro' the plate Beneath drove fierce, and in his heart's-blood plunged. Lo! as he struck the strength of Talbot came:

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