Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/313

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BOOK THE EIGHTH.
301
The expected host from England: even now
Perchance the tall bark scuds across the deep
That bears my son—young Talbot comes—he comes
To find his sire disgraced! but soon mine arm,
By vengeance nerved, and shame of such defeat, 750
Shall, from the crest-fallen courage of yon witch,
Regain its antient glory. Near the coast
Best is it to retreat, and there expect
The coming succour."
Thus the warrior spake.
Joy ran thro' all the troops, as tho' retreat 755
Were safety. Silently in ordered ranks
They issue forth, favoured by the deep clouds
That mantled o'er the moon. With throbbing hearts
Fearful they speeded on: some, thinking sad
Of distant England, and, now wise too late, 760
Cursing in bitterness that evil hour
That led them from her shores: some in faint hope
Calling to mind the comforts of their home:
Talbot went musing on his blasted fame

Sullen