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JOAN OF ARC.
Dash'd down his comrade. So, unmoved he stood,The sire of Guendolen, that daring man,Corineus; grappling with his monstrous foe,He the brute vastness held aloft, and bore, 405And headlong hurl'd, all shatter'd to the sea,Down from the rock's high summit, since that dayHim, hugest of the giant's, chronicling,Hight Langoemagog.The Maid of ArcBounds o'er the bridge, and to the wind unfurls 410Her hallowed banner. At that welcome sightA general shout of acclamation rose,And loud, as when the tempest-tossing forestRoars to the roaring wind; then terror seiz'dThe garrison; and fired anew with hope, 415The fierce assailants to their prize rush onResistless. Vainly do their English foesHurl there their beams, and stones, and javelins,And fire-brands: fearless in the escalade,Firm mount the French, and now upon the wall 420

Wage

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