198
JOAN OF ARC.
The Bastard moved along, with provident eye
Marshalling the troops. All high in hope they march.
And now the sun shot from the southern sky 120
His noon-tide radiance, when afar they hear
The hum of men, and mark the distant towers
Of Orleans, and the bulwarks of the foe,
And many a streamer wantoning in air.
These as they saw and thought of all the ills 125
Their brethren had endured beleager'd there
For many a month; such ardor for the fight
Burnt in each bosom, as young Ali felt
When to the assembled tribe Mohammed spake,
Asking for one his Vizier. Fierce in faith, 130
Forth from the race of Hashem stept the youth,
"Prophet of God! lo—I will be the man!"
Nor did not Ali merit that high post,
Victorious upon Beder's fertile vale,
And on mount Ohud, and before the walls 135
Of Chaibar, then when cleaving to the chest
His giant foe, he grasp'd the massy gate,
Marshalling the troops. All high in hope they march.
And now the sun shot from the southern sky 120
His noon-tide radiance, when afar they hear
The hum of men, and mark the distant towers
Of Orleans, and the bulwarks of the foe,
And many a streamer wantoning in air.
These as they saw and thought of all the ills 125
Their brethren had endured beleager'd there
For many a month; such ardor for the fight
Burnt in each bosom, as young Ali felt
When to the assembled tribe Mohammed spake,
Asking for one his Vizier. Fierce in faith, 130
Forth from the race of Hashem stept the youth,
"Prophet of God! lo—I will be the man!"
Nor did not Ali merit that high post,
Victorious upon Beder's fertile vale,
And on mount Ohud, and before the walls 135
Of Chaibar, then when cleaving to the chest
His giant foe, he grasp'd the massy gate,
Shook
