386
JOAN OF ARC.
By public hatred, and the murderer's name!
There too the Son of Talbot, young in arms,
Moved eager he, at many a tournament,
With matchless force, had pointed his strong lance,
O'er all opponents, victor: confident 315
In strength, and jealous of his future fame,
His heart beat high for battle. Such array
Of marshall'd numbers fought not on the field
Of Crecy, nor at Poictiers; nor such force
Led Henry to the fight of Azincour, 320
When thousands fell before him.
Onward move
The host of France: and now their venturous Knights
Dismount; their safety, and their country's weal,
Trusting to their own strength. The Maid alone,
Conspicuous on a coal-black courser, meets 325
The war. They moved to battle with such sound
As rushes o'er the vaulted firmament,
When from his seat, on the utmost verge of Heaven
That overhangs the Void, Father of Winds!
There too the Son of Talbot, young in arms,
Moved eager he, at many a tournament,
With matchless force, had pointed his strong lance,
O'er all opponents, victor: confident 315
In strength, and jealous of his future fame,
His heart beat high for battle. Such array
Of marshall'd numbers fought not on the field
Of Crecy, nor at Poictiers; nor such force
Led Henry to the fight of Azincour, 320
When thousands fell before him.
Onward move
The host of France: and now their venturous Knights
Dismount; their safety, and their country's weal,
Trusting to their own strength. The Maid alone,
Conspicuous on a coal-black courser, meets 325
The war. They moved to battle with such sound
As rushes o'er the vaulted firmament,
When from his seat, on the utmost verge of Heaven
That overhangs the Void, Father of Winds!
Hræsvelger
