BOOK THE FIFTH.
159
The banner'd lillies. On their way they march,
And dim in distance, soon the towers of Chinon
Fade from the eye reverted.
The third sun, 35
Purpling the sky with his dilated light,
Sunk westering; when embosom'd in the depth
Of that vast forest, whose prodigious track[1]
Shadows the hills and vales of Orleannois,
They pitch their tents. The hum of occupation 40
Sounds ceaseless. Waving to the evening gale,
The streamers wanton; and, ascending slow
Beneath the foliage of the forest trees,
With many a light hue tinged, the curling smoke
Melts in the impurpled air: leaving her tent, 45
The martial Maiden wander'd thro' the wood.
There, by a streamlet, on its mossy bank
Reclined, she saw a damsel: her long locks
Engarlanded, and as she nearer came,
The Virgin knew it for the willow weed. 50
And dim in distance, soon the towers of Chinon
Fade from the eye reverted.
The third sun, 35
Purpling the sky with his dilated light,
Sunk westering; when embosom'd in the depth
Of that vast forest, whose prodigious track[1]
Shadows the hills and vales of Orleannois,
They pitch their tents. The hum of occupation 40
Sounds ceaseless. Waving to the evening gale,
The streamers wanton; and, ascending slow
Beneath the foliage of the forest trees,
With many a light hue tinged, the curling smoke
Melts in the impurpled air: leaving her tent, 45
The martial Maiden wander'd thro' the wood.
There, by a streamlet, on its mossy bank
Reclined, she saw a damsel: her long locks
Engarlanded, and as she nearer came,
The Virgin knew it for the willow weed. 50
Resting
- ↑ Line 38. The forest of Orleans contains even now fourteen thousand acres of various kinds of wood.
