Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/54

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Here they entered in,And now arrived where, as in study tranced,She sat, the Mistress of the Dome. Her faceSpake that composed severity, that knowsNo angry impulse, no weak tenderness,Resolved and calm. Before her lay that BookThat hath the words of Life; and as she read,Sometimes a tear would trickle down her cheek,Tho' heavenly joy beam'd in her eye the while.
Leaving her undisturb'd, to the first wardOf this great Lazar-house, the Angel ledThe favour'd Maid of Orleans. Kneeling downOn the hard stone that their bare knees had worn,In sackcloth robed, a numerous train appear'd:Hard-featured some, and some demurely grave;Yet such expression stealing from the eye,As tho', that only naked, all the restWas one close fitting mask. A scoffing Fiend,For Fiend he was, tho' wisely serving here
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