Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/369

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BOOK THE NINTH.
357
Profuse her bounty. Forest-waving hillsBosom'd the tranquil scene, beneath whose feet 805A river roll'd along its willowy course,And as it wound between the neighbouring coomb,Allured the charmed eye. Here, as they passBeneath a woodbine bower, a manly formThey saw of open visage, who from wood 810Of odorous Myrtle form'd the shafts of Love.Yet whilst Humanity thus plied his toil,Deceit would steal away the precious shaftsAnd in their stead the evil darts return,Form'd from the Cypress or the Aspin wood, 815Or from that tree that on the traveller dropsThe dews of death. And as the Genius form'dHis shafts, he plunged them in the urn of bliss:But brooding evil to the race of man,Sat shameless Vice behind, and fann'd her fire, 820Hell-kindled, heating in it's flames the dartsDeceit had form'd, and Avarice venom'd themWith his cold drugs that petrify the heart.

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