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JOAN OF ARC
But where it passed, there lingers still a light.
She waited, wistful, for the word of truth
That breathed in blessing from immortal lips
When earthly comfort failed, and all around was night.
137
JOAN OF ARC
But where it passed, there lingers still a light.
She waited, wistful, for the word of truth
That breathed in blessing from immortal lips
When earthly comfort failed, and all around was night.
137