350
JOAN OF ARC.
That the Maid gazed with half-averting eye, 675
And shudder'd: each one was a loathly corpse!
The worm did banquet on his putrid prey,
Yet had they life and feeling exquisite,
Tho' motionless and mute.
"Most wretched men
Are these," the angel cried. "These, JOAN, are Bards, 680
Whose loose lascivious lays perpetuate
Their own corruption. Soul-polluted slaves,
Who sat them down, deliberately lewd,
So to awake and pamper lust in minds,
Unborn; and therefore foul of body now 685
As then they were of soul, they here abide
Their punishment, and here they must abide
Long as the evil works they left on earth
Shall live to taint mankind. A dreadful doom!
Yet amply merited by that bad man 690
Who prostitutes the sacred gift of song."
And shudder'd: each one was a loathly corpse!
The worm did banquet on his putrid prey,
Yet had they life and feeling exquisite,
Tho' motionless and mute.
"Most wretched men
Are these," the angel cried. "These, JOAN, are Bards, 680
Whose loose lascivious lays perpetuate
Their own corruption. Soul-polluted slaves,
Who sat them down, deliberately lewd,
So to awake and pamper lust in minds,
Unborn; and therefore foul of body now 685
As then they were of soul, they here abide
Their punishment, and here they must abide
Long as the evil works they left on earth
Shall live to taint mankind. A dreadful doom!
Yet amply merited by that bad man 690
Who prostitutes the sacred gift of song."
They enter'd now a large and lofty dome,
O'er
