XAINT. I shuddering fled. The sound of crackling blaze, the trumpet's wail, The groan of thousands ringing in my ear, In dread of what to thee--
DU N. And she is gone, In ignorance of all I felt for her, Or could have done! And nought remains of her That I might see how lovely even death Can show himself, when to the lovely joined; Might cheat my soul awhile she did but sleep, And seal a last, first kiss upon her brow! Earth not a particle now holds of her, O'er which these stranger drops might fall!
DU N. I do not hide my face Ashamed thou shouldst behold Du Nois can weep; Or show how grief can bend e'en his stern spirit: But when in after days you speak of this, And I perchance have found a bloody grave, Say, nought in life he dared, so awful seemed, As sight of agony which wrung his heart, And sank the soldier in the man.
Joseph Rickerby, Printer, Sherbourn, Lanc.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Joan of Arc, by Jane Alice Sargant