Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/71

And heal'd the recent harm of chill or blight,335
And nurs'd each plant that fair and virtuous grew.
But soon a deep precursive sound moan'd hollow:
Black rose the clouds, and now, (as in a dream)
Their red'ning shapes transform'd to warrior hotss,
Cours'd o'er the Sky, and battled in mid air.340
The Sea meantime his Billows darkest roll'd,
And each stain'd wave dash'd on the shore a corse.
Nor did not the large blood-drops fall from Heaven
Portentous! while aloft were seen to float,
His hideous features blended with the mist,345
The long black locks of Slaughter. Peace beheld,
And o'er the plain with oft-reverted eye
Fled, till a place of Tombs she reach'd, and there
Within a ruin'd sepulchre obscure
Found hiding-place.
The delegated Maid 350
Gaz'd thro' her tears, then in sad tones exclaim'd,
"Thou mild-ey'd Form! wherefore ah! wherefore fled?
The name of Justice written on thy brow

"Resplen-