Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/326

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JOAN OF ARC.
Black clouds, driven fast before the stormy wind,Swept shadowing; thro' their broken folds the moonStruggled sometimes with transitory ray, 15And made the moving darkness, visible.And now arrived beside a fenny lakeShe stands: amid its stagnate waters, hoarseThe thick sedge rustled to the gales of night,And loud was heard the Bittern's mournful cry. 20An age-worn bark receives the Maid, impell'dBy powers unseen; then did the moon displayWhere thro' the crazy vessel's yawning sideRush'd in the muddy wave: a female guidesAnd spreads the sail before the wind, that moan'd 25As melancholy mournful to her ear,As ever by the dungeon'd wretch was heardHowling at evening round the embattled towersOf that hell-house[1] of France, ere yet sublimeThe Almighty people from their tyrant's hand 30Dash'd down the iron rod.

Intent

  1. ↑ Line 29. The Bastille.
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