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JOAN OF ARC.
Struck forceful: swift the erring arrow spedGuiltless of blood, for lightly o'er the court 440Bounded the warrior Virgin. GlacidasLevelled his bow again; the fated shaftFled true, and difficultly thro' the mailPierced to her neck, and tinged its point with blood."She bleeds! she bleeds!" exulting cried the Chief; 445"The Sorceress bleeds! nor all her hellish artsCan charm my arrows from their destined course."Ill-fated Man! in vain with murderous handPlacing thy feathered quarrel in its groove,Dream'st thou of JOAN subdued! She from her neck 450Plucking the shaft unterrified, exclaim'd,"This is a favour! Frenchmen, let us on!Escape they cannot from the hand of God!"
 But Conrade, rolling round his angry eyes, Beheld the English Chieftain as he aim'd 455Again the bow; with rapid step he strode; Nor did not Glacidas the Frank perceive;

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