Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/78

With eager ear heard from the Maid her tale
Of early youth and Mission from on high.455
And now beneath the Horizon west'ring slow
Had sunk the orb of Day: a milder Light
Soften'd the scene, fading thro' every hue
'Till twilight's deep'ning mists o'ershadow'd all.
The trav'llers wend, beguiling the long way460
With converse, 'till the dewy Damps of Night
Rose round. Far off a glimm'ring taper's ray
Gleam'd thro' the embowered gloom: to that they turn.
An aged man came forth; his scant grey locks
Waved on the night breeze. Time had written deep465
On his shrunk face the characters of age.
Them louting low with rustic courtesy
He welcom'd in, on the white-ember'd hearth
Then heapt fresh fuel, and with friendly care
Spread out the homely board: fatigued they eat470
The country cakes and quaff the nut-brown bowl.

"Strangers, your fare is homely," said their Host,

" But