336
JOAN OF ARC.
More dread than darkness. Soon the distant sound 415
Of clanking anvils, and the lengthened breath
Provoking fire are heard: and now they reach
A vast expanded den, where all around
Tremendous furnaces, with hellish blaze,
Flamed dreadful. At the heaving bellows stood 420
The meagre form of Care, and as he blew
To augment the fire, the fire augmented, scorch'd
His wretched limbs: sleepless for ever thus
He toil'd and toil'd, of toil to reap no end
But endless toil, and never-ending woe. 425
Of clanking anvils, and the lengthened breath
Provoking fire are heard: and now they reach
A vast expanded den, where all around
Tremendous furnaces, with hellish blaze,
Flamed dreadful. At the heaving bellows stood 420
The meagre form of Care, and as he blew
To augment the fire, the fire augmented, scorch'd
His wretched limbs: sleepless for ever thus
He toil'd and toil'd, of toil to reap no end
But endless toil, and never-ending woe. 425
An aged man went round the infernal vault
Urging his workmen at their ceaseless task:
White were his locks, as is the wintry snow
On hoar Plinlimmons head. A golden staff
His steps supported; powerful talisman, 430
Which whoso feels shall never feel again
The tear of Pity or the throb of Love.
Touch'd but by this, the massy gates give way,
Urging his workmen at their ceaseless task:
White were his locks, as is the wintry snow
On hoar Plinlimmons head. A golden staff
His steps supported; powerful talisman, 430
Which whoso feels shall never feel again
The tear of Pity or the throb of Love.
Touch'd but by this, the massy gates give way,
The
