Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/64

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52

THE VISION

of

THE MAID OF ORLEANS.

THE THIRD BOOK.

The Maiden, musing on the Warrior's words,Turn'd from the Hall of Glory. Now they reach'dA cavern, at whose mouth a Genius stood,In front a beardless youth, whose smiling eyeBeam'd promise, but behind, withered and old,And all unlovely. Underneath his feetLay records trampled, and the laurel wreathNow rent and faded: in his hand he heldAn hour-glass, and as fall the restless sands,So pass the lives of men. By him they pastAlong the darksome cave, and reach'd a stream,Still rolling onward its perpetual waves,
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