Brooded the field of death. Nor in the camp Deem themselves safe the trembling fugitives. Resistless down the mountain rolls along, Arrived, with deafening clamour down it falls: Nor of the host so late Triumphing in the pride of victory, And swoln with confidence, had now escaped Call'd London, light the beacon. Soon the fires That firm entrenched with walls and deep-delved moats They cast a lurid splendor; to the troops Wandering with parched feet o'er the Arabian sands, Travelling the trackless desolate, where heaved Pauses, and shudders at his perils past, Then wild with joy speeds on to taste the wave So long bewail'd. Swift as the affrighted herd Scud o'er the plain, when frequent thro' the sky Nor now the Maid Greedy of vengeance urges the pursuit. Blows the loud blast. Obedient to its voice The French, tho' eager on the invaders' heads To wreak their wrath, stay the victorious sword. Loud is the cry of conquest as they turn To Orleans. There what few to guard the town Flash'd far a festive light. The circumstance of the Maids entering Orleans at midnight in a storm of thunder and lightning is historically true. "The Englishmen perceiving that thei within could not long continue for faute of vitaile and pouder, kepte not their watche so diligently as thei wer accustomed, nor scoured not the countrey environed as thei before had ordained. Whiche negligence the Citezens shut in perceiving, sent worde therof to the French capitaines, which with Pucelle in the dedde tyme of the nighte, and in a greate rayne and thundre, with all their vitaile and artilery entered into the citie. Hall fol. 127. Edmond Howes. Rapin. Shakespear also notices this storm. stance is Chapelain has omitted it. Striking as the circum Innocuous lightnings round the hallowed banner Wreath'd their red radiance; Thro' the open'd gate Slow past the laden convoy. Then was heard The men of Orleans at that welcome sight Y Scorch'd by the sun that o'er their morning march Steam'd his hot vapours, heart subdued and faint; Such joy as then they felt, when from the heights Burst the soul-gladdening sound! for thence was seen The evening sun silvering the vale below, Where Oxus roll'd along. Clamours of joy Echo along the streets of Orleans, wont |