Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/62

Admiring near. Revenge unwilling quits
The mangled corse; and prodigal of death
Next Slaughter strode; his falchion yet unsheath'd
Reeks from the wound, loose flow his long black locks,170
The wide roll of his eye is terrible,
And each limb quivers. Cruelty comes next,
With savage smile grasping a widowed dove.
And Fury next beating her own swoln breast
Rush'd at the call: and Envy hideous form175
Gnawing her flesh, and tearing from her head
The viper turn'd to bite: and Horror wild
With creeping flesh. Despair his sullen arms
Folded; aye muttering dark and half-form'd words
Of dreadful import. Aged Avarice next180
Hugg'd to his heart his bags, and cast around
(Unwilling tho' to lose the golden sight,)
The fearful look. And fitful Jealousy
Anxious for misery came: and feverish Lust
Hot from the convent. Palsied Fear fled on,185
And ever as he fled his ghastly eye

Reverts.