Whose whole existence the next cloud may blast, Of virgin-modesty, that thou shalt wish
Believes himself the care of heavenly powers,

The earth might cover thee! In that last hour,
That God regards man, miserable man,

When thy bruis'd breast shall heave bencath the chains And, preaching thus of power and providence,

That link thes to the stake; when o'er thy form Will crush the reptile that may cross his path!

Exposed unmantled, the brute multitude

Shall gaze, and thou shalt hear the ribald taunt, Fool that thou art! the Being that permits

More painful than the circling flames that scorch Existence, gives to man the worthless boon:

Each quivering member; wilt thou not in vajn A goodly gift to those who, fortune-blest,

Then wish my friendly aid ? then wish thipe ear Bask in the sunshine of prosperity;

Had drank my words of comfort? that thy hand And such do well to keep it. But to one

Had grasp'd the dagger, and in death preserved Sick at the heart with misery, and sore

Josulted modesty ?» With many a hard unmerited affliction,

Her glowing cheek It is a hair that chains to wretchedness

Blush'd crimson; her wide eye on vacancy The slave who dares not burst it!

Was fix'd; her breath short panted. The cold fiend,

Thinkest thou, Grasping her hand, exclaim'd, « Too timid Maid, The parent, if his child should unrecalld

So long repugnant to the liealing aid Return and fall upon his neck, and cry,

My friendship proffers, now shalt thou beliold "Oh! the wide world is comfortless, and full

The allotted length of life.» Of vacant joys and heart-consuming cares,

He stamp'd the earth,
I can be only happy in my home

And, dragging a huge coffin as his car,
With thec-my friend ! my father! Thinkest thou, Two Gouls came on, of form more fearful-foul
That he would thrust him as an outcast forth 73 Than ever palsied in her wildest dreain
Oh! he would clasp the truant to his heart,

Hag-ridden Superstition. Then Despair
And love the trespass.»

Seized on the Maid whose curdling blood stood still, Whilst he spake, his eye And placed her in the seat, and on they pass'd Dwelt on the Maiden's cheek, and read her soul Adown the deep descent. A meteor light Struggling within. In trembling doubt she stood, Shot from the dæmons, as they drage'd along Even as the wretch, whose famish'd entrails crave The unwelcome load, and mark'd their brethren feast Supply, before him sees the poison d food

On carcasses.
In greedy horror.

Below, the vault dilates
Yet, not silent long:

Its ample bulk. « Look here!»---Despair addrest · Eloquent tempter, cease !» the Maiden cried ; The shuddering Virgin, « see the dome of Death !» «What though affliction be my portion here,

It was a spacious cavern, hewn amid Think'st thou I do not feel high thoughts of joy, The entrails of the earth, as though to form Of heart-ennobling joy, when I look back

The grave of all mankind: no eye could reach, Upon a life of duty well perform’d,

Though gifted with the eagle's ample ken, Then lift mine eyes to Heaven, and there in faith Its distant bounds. There, throned in darkness, dwelt Know my reward ?-1 grant, were this life all,

The unseen power of Death. Was there no morning to the tomb's lony night,

Here stopt the Gouls, If man did mingle with the senseless clod,

Reaching the destined spot. The fiend leapt out, Vimself as senseless, then wert thou indeed

And from the coffin as he led the Maid, A wise and friendly comforter!-But, fiend,

Exclaim'd, « Where never yet stood mortal man, There is a morning to the tomb's long night,

Thou standest: look around this boundless vault: A dawn of glory, a reward in heaven,

Observe the dole that Nature deals to man, He shall not gain who never merited.

And learn to know thy friend.» If thou didst know the worth of one good deed

She noi replied, In life's last hour, thou wouldst not bid nie losc Observing where the Fates their several tasks The power to benefit! if I but save

Plied ceaseless. « Mark how long the shortest web A drowning fly, I shall not live in vain.

Allow'd to man!» he cried ; « observe low soon, I have great duties, fiend! me France expects,

Twined round yon dever-resting wheel, they change Her heaven-doom'd champion.»

Their snowy hue, darkening through many a shade,

« Maiden, thou hast donc Till Atropos relentless shuts the shcars!» Thy mission here,» the unbaffled fiend replied ; « The foes are fled from Orleans : thou, perchance, Too true he spake, for of the countless threads, Exulting in the pride of victory,

Drawn from the heap, as white as unsuon'd snow, Forgettest him who perislid! yet albeit

Or as the lovely lily of the vale, Thy harden'd heart forget the gallant youth,

Was never one beyond the little span
That hour allolied canst thou not escape,

Of infancy untainted: few there were
That dreadful bour, wlien contumely and shame But lightly tinged; more of deep crimson hue,
Shall sojourn in thy dungeon. Wretched Maid! Or deeper sable dyed.4 Two genii stood,
Destined to drain the cup of bitterness,

Still as the web of being was drawn forth,
Even to its dregs! England's inhuman chiefs

Sprinkling their powerful drops. From ebon urn, Shall scoff thy sorrows, blacken thy pure fame, The one unsparing dash'd the bitter wave Wit-wanton it with lewd barbarity,

Of woe; and as he dash'd, his dark-brown brow And force such burning blushes to the cheek

Relax'd to a hard smile. The milder form

Their beads, and make long prayers, and cross them- Have made men bow the knee, and call'd themselves selves,

Most reverend graces and right reverend lords. And call themselves most miserable sinners,

They dwelt in palaces, in purple clothed, That so they might be deem'd most pious saints: And in fine linen: therefore are they here; And go all filth, and never let a smile

And though they would not minister on earth,
Bend their stern muscles: gloomy, sullen men, Here penanced they perforce must minister :
Barren of all affection, and all this

Did not the Holy One of Nazareth
To please their God, forsooth! and therefore Scorn Tell them, his kingdom is not of the world?»
Grinn'd at his patients, making them repeat
Their solemn farce, with keenest raillery

So saying, on they pass'd, and now arrived
Tormenting; but if earnest in their prayer,

Where such a hideous ghastly group abode,
They pour'd the silent sorrows of the soul

That the Maid gazed with half-averting eye,
To heaven, then did they not regard his mocks And shudder'd: each one was a loathly corpse,
Which then came painless, and Humility

The worm did banquet on his putrid prey,
Soon rescued them, and led to Penitence,

Yet had they life and feeling exquisite,
That she might lead to heaven.

Though motionless and mute.
From thence they came

« Most wretched men Where, in the next ward, a most wretched band Are these,» the angel cried. «These, JOAN, are bards Groan'd underneath the bitter tyrandy

Whose loose lascivious lays perpetuated Of a fierce demon. His coarse hair was red,

Their own corruption. Soul-polluted slaves, Pale grey his eyes, and blood-shot: and his face Who sate them down, deliberately lewd, Wrinkled by such a smile as malice wears

So to awake and pamper lust in minds In ecstacy. Well-pleased he went around,

Unborn; and therefore foul of body now Plunging his dagger in the hearts of some,

As then they were of soul, they here abide Or probing with a poison'd lance their breasts, Long as the evil works they left on earth Or placing coals of fire within their wounds;

Shall live to taint mankind. A dreadful doom!
Or seizing some within his mighty grasp,

Yet amply merited by that bad man
He fix'd them on a stake, and then drew back Who prostitutes the sacred gift of song! »
And Jaugh'd to see them writhe.

« These,» said the spirit, And now they reach'd a huge and massy pile, « Are taught by Cruelty, to loathe the lives

Massy it seem'd, and yet in every blast They led themselves. Here are those wicked men As to its ruin shook. There, porter fit, Who loved to exercise their tyrant power

Remorse for ever his sad vigils kept. On speechless brutes; bad husbands undergo

Pale, hollow-eyed, emaciate, sleepless wretch, A long purgation here; the traffickers

Inly he groan'd, or, starting, wildly shriek d, In human flesh here too are disciplined,

Aye as the fabric tottering from its base, Till by their suffering they have equall'd all

Threatened its fall, and so expectant still The miseries they inflicted, all the mass

Lived in the dread of danger still delay'd. Of wretchedness caused by the wars they waged, They enter'd there a large and lofty dome, The villages they burnt, the widows left

O'er whose black marble sides a dim drear light In want, the slave or led to suicide,

Struggled with darkness from the unfrequent lamp. Or murder'd by the foul infected air

Enthroned around, the murderers of mankind, Of his close dungeon, or, more sad than all,

Monarchs, the great! the glorious ! the august! His virtue lost, his very soul enslaved,

Each bearing on his brow a crown of fire, And driven by woe to wickedness.

Sat stern and silent. Nimrod, he was there,

First king, the mighty hunter; and that chief Whom thou beholdest in this dreary room,

Who did belie his mother's fame, that so So sullen, and with such an eye of hate

He might be called young Ammon. In this court Each on the other scowling, these have been

Caesar was crown'd, accurst libcrticide; False friends. Tormented by their own dark thoughts, And he who murdered Tully, that cold villain, llere they dwell: in the hollow of their hearts Octavius, though the courtly minion's lyre There is a worm that feeds, and though thou seest Hath hymn'd his praise, though Maro sang to him, That skilful leech who willingly would heal

And when death levell'd to original clay The ill they suffer, judging of all else

The royal carcass, Flattery, fawning low, By their own evil standar), they suspect

Fell at his feet, and worshipped the new god. The aid he vainly proffers, lengthening thus

Titus was here, 7 the conqueror of the Jews,
By vice its punishment.»

Ile the delight of human kind mis-named;
« But who are these,» Cæsars and Soldans, emperors and kings,
The Maid exclaim'd, « that, robed in flowing lawn, Here they were all, all who for glory fought,
And mitred, or in scarlet, and in caps,

Here in the court of glory, reaping now
Like cardinals, I see in every ward,

The meed they merited, Performing menial service at the beck

As gazing round
Of all who bid them?»

The Virgio mark'd the miserable train,
Theodore replied,

A deep and hollow voice from one went forth; « These men are they who in the name of Christ « Thou who art come to view our punishment, ilave heap'd up wealth, and arrogatiog power, Maiden of Orleans! hither turn thine eye,

These next,

For I am he whose bloody victories

And desolated nations; ever fill'd
Thy power hath rendered vain. Lo! I am here, With undetermined terror, as she heard
The hero conqueror of Agincourt,

Or distant screech-owl, or the regular beat
Henry of England !-wretched that I am,

Of evening death-watch.
I might have reigo'd in happiness and peace,

« Maid,» the spirit cried, My coffers full, my subjects undisturb'd,

« Here, robed in shadows, dwells Futurity.
And Plenty and Prosperity had loved

There is no eye hath seen her secret form,
To dwell amongst them : but mine eye beheld

For round the Mother of Time eternal mists
The realm of France, by faction tempest-torn,

Hover. If thou wouldst read the book of fate,
And therefore I did think that it would fall

Go in!»
An easy prey. I persecuted those

The Damsel for a moment paused, Who taught new doctrines, though they taught the Then to the angel spake: « All-gracious Heaven! truth:

Benigoant in withholding, liath denied
And when I heard of thousands by the sword

To man that knowledge. I, in faith assured,
Cut off, or blasted by the pestilence,

That he, my heavenly Father, for the best
I calmly counted up my proper gains,

Ordaineth all things, in that faith remain
And sent new herds to slaughter. Temperate

Contented.»
Myself, no blood that mutinicd, no vice

« Well and wisely hast thou said,» Tainting my private life, I sent abroad

So Theodore replied ; « and now, O Maid !
Murder and rape; and therefore am I doom'd,

Is there amid this boundless universe
Like these imperial sufferers, crown'd with fire, One whom thy soul would visit? Is there place
Here to remain, till man's awaken d eye

To memory dear, or vision'd out by hope,
Shall see the genuine blackness of our deeds,

Where thou wouldst now be present? Form the wish,
And waro'd by them, till the whole buman race, And I am with thee, there.»
Equalling in bliss the aggregate we caused

His closing speech
Of wretchedness, shall form one brotherhood, Yet sounded on her ear, and lo! they stood
One universal family of love.»

Swift as the sudden thought that guided them,
Within the little cottage that she loved.

« He sleeps! the good man sleeps!» enrapt she cried, BOOK NII,

As bending o'er her uncle's lowly bed
Her cye retraced his features. « See the beads

Which never morn nor night he fails to tell,
The Maiden, musing on the warrior's words,

Remembering me, his child, in every prayer.
Turn'd from the hall of glory. Now they reach'd Oh! quiet be thy sleep, thou dear old man!
A cavern, at whose mouth a genius stood,

Good angels guard thy rest! and when thine hour
In front a beardless youth, whose smiling eye

Is come, as gently mayest thou wake to life,
Beaın'd promise, but belind, wither'd and old, As when through yonder lattice the next sua
And all unlovely. Underneath his feet

Shall bid thee to thy morning orisons!»
Lay records (rampled, and the laurel-wreath
Now rept and faded : in his hand he held

« Thy voice is heard,» the angel guide rejoin'd,
An hour-glass, and as fall the restless sands,

« He sees thee in his dreams, he hears thee breathe
So pass the lives of men. By him they pass d Blessings, and happy is the good man's rest.
Along the darksome cave, and reach'd a streain, Thy fame has reach'd him, for who has not heard
Still rolling onward its perpetual waves,

Thy wondrous exploits? and his aged heart
Noiseless and undisturb'd. llere they ascend

Hath felt the deepest joy that ever yet
A bark unpiloted, that down the flood,

Made his glad blood flow fast. Sleep on, old Claude!
Borne by the current, rush'd. The circling stream, Peaceful, pure spirit, be thy sojourn here,
Returning to itself, an island formid;

And short and soon thy passage to that world
Nor had the Maiden's footsteps ever reach'd

Where friends shall part no more!
The insulated coast, eternally

Does thy soul own
Rape round the endless course; but Theodore

No other wish? or sleeps poor Madelon
Drove with an angel's will the obedient bark.

Forgotten in her gravel ...Seest thou yon star,»

The spirit pursued, regardless of her eye
They land; a mighty fabric meets their eyes,

That look'd reproach ; « seest thou that evening star
Seen by its gem-born light. Of adamant

Whose lovely light so often we belield
The pile was framd, for ever to abide

From yonder woodbine porch? how have we gazed
Firm in eternal strength. Before the gate

Into the dark deep sky, till the baftled soul,
Stood eayer Expectation, as to list

Lost in the infinite, return'd, and felt
The half-beard murmurs issuing from within, The burthen of ber bodily load, and yearn'd
Her mouth half-open'd and her head stretch'd forth For freedom! Maid, in yonder evening star
On the other side there stood an aged crone,

Lives thiy departed friend. I read that glauce,
Listening to every breath of air; she knew

And we are there!»
Vague suppositions and uncertain dreams,

He said, and they had past
Of what was soon to come, for she would mark The immeasurable space.
The little glow-worm's self-created light,

Then on her ear
And argue thence of kingdoms overthrown,

Thic lonely song of adoration rose,

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