JOAN of ARC
BOOK THE SIXTH.
THE night was calm, and many a moving cloud
Shadowed the moon. Along the forest glade
With swift foot Conrade past, and now had reach'd
The plain, where whilome by the pleasant Loire,
Cheer'd with the song, the rustics had beheld 5
The day go down upon their merriment:
No song of Peace now echoed on its banks.
There tents were pitched—and there the centinel,
Slow pacing on his sullen rounds, beheld
The frequent corse roll down the tainted stream. 10
Conrade with wider sweep pursued his way,
Shunning the camp, now hush'd in sleep and still.
And now no sound was heard save of the Loire,
Shadowed the moon. Along the forest glade
With swift foot Conrade past, and now had reach'd
The plain, where whilome by the pleasant Loire,
Cheer'd with the song, the rustics had beheld 5
The day go down upon their merriment:
No song of Peace now echoed on its banks.
There tents were pitched—and there the centinel,
Slow pacing on his sullen rounds, beheld
The frequent corse roll down the tainted stream. 10
Conrade with wider sweep pursued his way,
Shunning the camp, now hush'd in sleep and still.
And now no sound was heard save of the Loire,
Murmuring
