BOOK THE NINTH.
345
She sat the Mistress of the Dome. Her face
Spake that compos'd severity, that knows
No angry impulse, no weak tenderness,
Resolved, and calm. Before her lay that Book 585
That hath the words of Life; and as she read,
Sometimes a tear would trickle down her cheek,
Tho' heavenly Joy beam'd in her eye the while.
Spake that compos'd severity, that knows
No angry impulse, no weak tenderness,
Resolved, and calm. Before her lay that Book 585
That hath the words of Life; and as she read,
Sometimes a tear would trickle down her cheek,
Tho' heavenly Joy beam'd in her eye the while.
Leaving her undisturb'd, to the first ward
Of this great Lazar-house, the Angel led 590
The favour'd Maid of Orleans. Kneeling down
On the hard stone that their bare knees had worn,
In sackcloth robed, a numerous train appear'd:
Hard-featur'd some, and some demurely grave;
Yet such expression stealing from the eye, 595
As tho', that only naked, all the rest
Was one close-fitting mask: a scoffing Fiend
(For Fiend he was, tho' wisely serving here)
Mock'd at his patients, and did often pour
Ashes upon them, and then bid them say 600
Of this great Lazar-house, the Angel led 590
The favour'd Maid of Orleans. Kneeling down
On the hard stone that their bare knees had worn,
In sackcloth robed, a numerous train appear'd:
Hard-featur'd some, and some demurely grave;
Yet such expression stealing from the eye, 595
As tho', that only naked, all the rest
Was one close-fitting mask: a scoffing Fiend
(For Fiend he was, tho' wisely serving here)
Mock'd at his patients, and did often pour
Ashes upon them, and then bid them say 600
Their
