Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/289

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BOOK THE EIGHTH.
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In backward step collecting all their strength,Anon the massy beam with stronger armDrive full and fierce; so rolls the swelling sea 310Its curly billows to the unmoved footOf some huge promontory, whose broad baseBreaks the rough wave; the shiver'd surge rolls back,Till, by the coming billow borne, it burstsAgain, and foams with ceaseless violence. 315The Wanderer, on the sunny clift outstretch'd,Harks to the roaring surges, as they rockHis weary senses to forgetfulness.
But nearer danger threats the invaders now, For on the ramparts, lowered from above 320The bridge reclines. An universal shout Rose from the hostile hosts. The exultant Franks Clamor their loud rejoicing, whilst the foe Lift up the warning voice, and call aloud For speedy succour there, with deafening shout 325Cheering their comrades. Not with louder din

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