Of Conrade was among them. Not more fierce
The injur'd Turnus swayed his angry arm,
Slaughtering the robber fugitives of Troy ;
Nor with more fury thro' the streets of Paris
Rush'd he, the King of Sarza, Rodomont

Clad in his dragon mail.

Like some tall rock,

Around whose billow-beaten foot the waves
Waste their wild fury, stood the unshaken man ;
Tho' round him prest his foemen, by Despair
Hearten'd. He, mowing thro' the throng his path,
Call'd on the troops of France, and bade them haste
Where he should lead the way. A daring band
Followed the adventurous Chieftain: he moved on
Unterrified, amid the arrowy shower,

Tho' on his shield and helm the darts fell fast

As the sear'd leaves that from the trembling tree
The autumnal whirlwind shakes.

Nor Conrade paus'd,

Still thro' the fierce fight urging on his way,

Till to the gate he came, and with strong hand
Seiz'd on the massy bolts. These as he drew,
Full on his helm the weighty English sword
Descended; swift he turn'd to wreak his wrath,
When lo! the assailant gasping on the ground,
Cleft by the Maiden's falchion: she herself
To the foe opposing with that lowly man,
For they alone following the adventurous steps.
Of Conrade, still had equall'd his bold course,
Shielded him as with eager hand he drew

The bolts the gate turn'd slow: forth leapt the Chief
And shivered with his battle-axe the chains

That hung on high the bridge. The impetuous troops, By Gaucour led, rush'd o'er to victory.

The banner'd lillies on the captur'd wall Tossed to the wind. "On to the neighbouring fort!" Cried Conrade, "Xaintrailles! ere the night draws on "Once more to conquest lead the troops of France! "Foree ye the lists, and fill the deep-dug moat,

"And with the ram, shake down their batter'd walls, "Anon I shall be with you." Thus he said; Then to the Damsel. "Maid of Arc! awhile "Cease we from battle, and by short repose "Renew our strength." So saying he his helm Unlaced, and in the Loire's near-flowing stream Cool'd his hot face. The Maid her head unhelm'd, And stooping to the stream, reflected there

Saw her white plumage stain'd with human blood! Shuddering she saw, but soon her steady soul

Collected on the banks she laid her down,

:

Freely awhile respiring, for her breath

Quick panted from the fight: silent they lay,
For gratefully the cooling breezes bathed

Their throbbing temples.

It was now the noon :

The sun-beams on the gently-waving stream

Danced sparkling. Lost in thought the warrior lay, And softening sadly his stern face, exclaim'd,

"Maiden of Arc! at such an hour as this,

"Beneath the o'er-arching forest's checquer'd shade, "With that lost woman have I wandered on, "Talking of years of happiness to come! "Oh hours for ever fled delightful dreams "Of the unsuspecting heart! I do believe

"If Agnes on a worthier one had fix'd

"Her love, that tho' mine aching heart had nurst "Its sorrows, I had never on her choice

"Pour'd one upbraiding-but to stoop to him!

"A harlot -an adulteress !"

In his eye

Red anger flash'd; anon of what she was

Ere yet the foul pollution of the Court

Stain'd her fair fame, he thought. "Oh happy age!"

He cried, "when all the family of man

"Freely enjoyed their goodly heritage,

"And only bow'd the knee in prayer to God! "Calm flow'd the unruffled stream of years along, "Till o'er the peaceful rustic's head, grew grey "The hairs in full of time. Then he would sit

"Beneath the coetaneous oak, whilst round,
"Sons, grandsons and their offspring join'd to form
"The blameless merriment; and learnt of him

"What time to yoke the oxen to the plough,

"What hollow moanings of the western wind

"Foretel the storm, and in what lurid clouds
"The embryo lightning lies. Well pleas'd, he taught,
"The heart-smile glowing on his aged cheek,
"Mild as the summer's sun's decaying light.

"Thus quietly the stream of life flow'd on
"Till in the shoreless ocean lost at length.
"Around the bed of death his numerous race
"Listen'd, in no unprofitable grief,

"His last advice, and caught his latest sigh:
"And when he died, as he had fallen asleep,

"Beneath the aged tree that grew with him.

They delved the narrow house: there oft at eve "Drew round their children of the after days, "And pointing to the turf, told how he lived, "And taught by his example how to die.