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JOAN OF ARC.
And cried again, "Haste Damsel to repose!One blow, and rest for ever!" On the FiendDark scowl'd the Virgin with indignant eye,And dash'd the dagger down. He next his heart 125Replaced the murderous steel, and drew the MaidAlong the downward vault.The damp earth gaveA dim sound as they pass'd: the tainted airWas cold, and heavy with unwholesome dews."Behold!" the fiend exclaim'd, "how gradual here 130The fleshly burden of mortalityMoulders to clay!" then fixing his broad eyeFull on her face, he pointed where a corpseLay livid; she beheld with loathing look,The spectacle abhorr'd by living man. 135
"Look here!" Despair pursued, "this loathsome massWas once as lovely, and as full of lifeAs, Damsel! thou art now. Those deep-sunk eyesOnce beam'd the mild light of intelligence,

"And

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