BOOK THE SIXTH.
199
Shook with strong arm and tore it from the fort,
And lifted it in air—portentous shield!
And lifted it in air—portentous shield!
"Behold the towers of Orleans," cried Dunois. 140
"Lo! this the vale where on the banks of Loire,
Of yore, at close of day the rustic band
Danced to the roundelay. In younger years
As oft I glided down the silver stream,
Frequent upon the lifted oar I paus'd 145
List'ning the sound of far-off merriment.
There wave the English banners! martial Maid,
Give thou the signal—let me rush upon
These ministers of murder, who have sack'd
The fruitful fields, and made the hamlet haunts 150
Silent—or hearing but the widow's groan,
Give thou the signal Maiden!"
Her dark eye
Fix'd sadly on the foe, the holy Maid
Answer'd him. "Ere the bloody sword be drawn,
Ere slaughter be let loose—befits us send 155
"Lo! this the vale where on the banks of Loire,
Of yore, at close of day the rustic band
Danced to the roundelay. In younger years
As oft I glided down the silver stream,
Frequent upon the lifted oar I paus'd 145
List'ning the sound of far-off merriment.
There wave the English banners! martial Maid,
Give thou the signal—let me rush upon
These ministers of murder, who have sack'd
The fruitful fields, and made the hamlet haunts 150
Silent—or hearing but the widow's groan,
Give thou the signal Maiden!"
Her dark eye
Fix'd sadly on the foe, the holy Maid
Answer'd him. "Ere the bloody sword be drawn,
Ere slaughter be let loose—befits us send 155
"Some
