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ST. JEANNE RIDES OUT
(For Amy Lowell)
St. Jeanne she sat with Michaël,
With Marguerite and Raphaël,
And all the saints who sent her forth a many years ago,
And high behind her gold-ringed head,
The martyrs dressed in white and red
And seraphim all silver-winged they chanted row on row.
With Marguerite and Raphaël,
And all the saints who sent her forth a many years ago,
And high behind her gold-ringed head,
The martyrs dressed in white and red
And seraphim all silver-winged they chanted row on row.
St. Jeanne she spoke to Michaël,
To Marguerite and Raphaël,
"Oh, here's no place for such as I, all white and gold and warm,
For I was but a peasant maid
Strong of arm and unafraid,
Before you sent me garnering along the battle-storm."
To Marguerite and Raphaël,
"Oh, here's no place for such as I, all white and gold and warm,
For I was but a peasant maid
Strong of arm and unafraid,
Before you sent me garnering along the battle-storm."
St. Jeanne she's laid her garlands by,
Her crown and palm that glittered high
And all the golden trinketry she won at Heaven Gate,
She's out along by Mary's Street
Where little stars lie thick and sweet,
With helm and sword they took from her at Rouen-Town of late.
Her crown and palm that glittered high
And all the golden trinketry she won at Heaven Gate,
She's out along by Mary's Street
Where little stars lie thick and sweet,
With helm and sword they took from her at Rouen-Town of late.
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