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JOAN OF ARC.
Some slaughtered friend? or lives the sufferer
With many a sore wound gash'd? oh if he lives!
I will with earnest prayer petition Heaven
To shed its healing on him!"
So she said, 55
And as she spake stretched forth her careful hands
To ease the burthen. "Warrior," he replied,
"Thanks for thy proffered succour: but this man
Lives not, and I with unassisted arm
Can bear him to the sepulchre. Farewell— 60
The night is far advanced; thou to the camp
Return: it fits not darkling thus to stray."
With many a sore wound gash'd? oh if he lives!
I will with earnest prayer petition Heaven
To shed its healing on him!"
So she said, 55
And as she spake stretched forth her careful hands
To ease the burthen. "Warrior," he replied,
"Thanks for thy proffered succour: but this man
Lives not, and I with unassisted arm
Can bear him to the sepulchre. Farewell— 60
The night is far advanced; thou to the camp
Return: it fits not darkling thus to stray."
"Conrade!" the Maid exclaim'd, for well she knew
His voice:—with that she fell upon his neck
And cried, "My Theodore! but wherefore thus 65
Thro' the dead midnight dost thou bear his corse?"
His voice:—with that she fell upon his neck
And cried, "My Theodore! but wherefore thus 65
Thro' the dead midnight dost thou bear his corse?"
"Peace, Maiden!" Conrade cried, "collect thy soul!
He is but gone before thee to that world
He is but gone before thee to that world
"Whither
