306
JOAN OF ARC.
That grapple to society the heart 845
Of social man? to rouse the unwilling spirit,
That, rebel to Devotion, faintly pours
The cold lip-worship of the wearying prayer?
To fear and tremble at him, yet to love
A God of Terrors? Maid, beloved of Heaven! 850
Come to this sacred trial! share with us
The day of penance and the night of prayer!
Humble thyself! feel thine own worthlessness,
A reptile worm! before thy birth condemn'd
To all the horrors of thy Maker's wrath, 855
The lot of fallen mankind! oh hither come!
Humble thyself in ashes, so thy name
Shall live amid the blessed host of saints,
And unborn pilgrims at thy hallowed shrine
Pour forth their pious offerings."
"Hear me Priest!" 860
Exclaim'd the awakened Maid; "amid these tombs,
Cold as their clayey tenants, know, my heart
Must never grow to stone! chill thou thyself,
Of social man? to rouse the unwilling spirit,
That, rebel to Devotion, faintly pours
The cold lip-worship of the wearying prayer?
To fear and tremble at him, yet to love
A God of Terrors? Maid, beloved of Heaven! 850
Come to this sacred trial! share with us
The day of penance and the night of prayer!
Humble thyself! feel thine own worthlessness,
A reptile worm! before thy birth condemn'd
To all the horrors of thy Maker's wrath, 855
The lot of fallen mankind! oh hither come!
Humble thyself in ashes, so thy name
Shall live amid the blessed host of saints,
And unborn pilgrims at thy hallowed shrine
Pour forth their pious offerings."
"Hear me Priest!" 860
Exclaim'd the awakened Maid; "amid these tombs,
Cold as their clayey tenants, know, my heart
Must never grow to stone! chill thou thyself,
"And
