Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/406

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JOAN OF ARC.
Should tell, and in the Stripling's bosom rouseThe fire of glory.Conrade the next foeSmote where the heaving membrane separatesThe chambers of the trunk. The dying man, 465In his Lord's castle dwelt, for many a year,A well-beloved servant: he could singCarols for Shrove-tide, or for Candlemas,Songs for the Wassel, and when the Boar's head,Crown'd with gay garlands, and with Rosemary, 470Smoaked on the Christmas board: he went to warFollowing the Lord he loved, and saw him fallBeneath the arm of Conrade, and expir'd,Slain on his Master's body.Nor the fightWas doubtful long. Fierce on the invading host 475Press the French troops impetuous, as of old,When, pouring o'er his legion slaves on Greece,The Eastern Despot bridged the Hellespont,The rushing sea against the mighty pile

Roll'd

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