296
JOAN OF ARC.
Or by their armour whelm'd beneath the tide,
The sufferers sunk, or vainly plied their arms,
Caught by some sinking wretch, who grasp'd them fast
And dragged them down to death: shrieking they sunk;
Huge fragments frequent dash'd with thundering roar, 660
Amid the foaming current. From the fort
Talbot beheld, and gnash'd his teeth, and curs'd
The more than mortal Virgin; whilst the towers
Of Orleans echoed to the loud uproar,
And all who heard, trembled, and cross'd their breasts, 665
And as they hastened to the city walls,
Told fearfully their beads.
'Twas now the hour
When o'er the plain the pensive hues of eve
Shed their meek radiance; when the lowing herd,
Slow as they stalk to shelter, draw behind 670
The lengthening shades; and seeking his high nest,
As heavily he flaps the dewy air,
The hoarse rook pours his not unpleasing note.
"Now then Dunois for Orleans!" cried the Maid,
The sufferers sunk, or vainly plied their arms,
Caught by some sinking wretch, who grasp'd them fast
And dragged them down to death: shrieking they sunk;
Huge fragments frequent dash'd with thundering roar, 660
Amid the foaming current. From the fort
Talbot beheld, and gnash'd his teeth, and curs'd
The more than mortal Virgin; whilst the towers
Of Orleans echoed to the loud uproar,
And all who heard, trembled, and cross'd their breasts, 665
And as they hastened to the city walls,
Told fearfully their beads.
'Twas now the hour
When o'er the plain the pensive hues of eve
Shed their meek radiance; when the lowing herd,
Slow as they stalk to shelter, draw behind 670
The lengthening shades; and seeking his high nest,
As heavily he flaps the dewy air,
The hoarse rook pours his not unpleasing note.
"Now then Dunois for Orleans!" cried the Maid,
"The
