Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/381

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JOAN of ARC.

BOOK THE TENTH.

The morning came, and from the Eastern clouds, Emerging in his glory, the new Sun Pour'd on the Virgin's cheek his startling rays. Serene she rose, her anguish mellowed down Even to that sober sadness that delights 5On other days to dwell. Her issuing forth The Bastard met. "Hail Maid of Orleans! hail Preserver of the French," the Chief exclaim'd. "The hostile host are fled; yet not by flight Shall England's robber sons escape the arm 10Of Retribution. Even now our troops, By battle unfatigued, unsatisfied

"With

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