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“ And whatso is his will, that I must do,
“ And I must cast away all fear of man .
“ Lest he in wrath confound me.”

At the first With pity or with scorn Dunois had heard The Maid inspired; but now he in his heart Felt that misgiving which precedes belief In what was disbelieved and scoff’dat late As folly. “ Damsel!” said the Chief, “methinks “ It would be wisely done to doubt this call, “Haply of some ill spirit prompting thee “ To self-destruction.”

“ Doubt!" the Maid exclaim'd, “ It were as easy when I gaze around “On all this fair variety of things, “ Green fields and tufted woods, and the blue depth “Of heaven, and yonder glorious sun, to doubt “ Creating wisdom! when in the evening gale “ I breathe the mingled odours of the spring, “ And hear the wild wood melody, and hear...

“ The populous air vocal with insect life, .. To doubt God's goodness! there are feelings, Chief, “ That may not lie; and I have oftentimes “ Felt in the midnight silence of my soul “ The call of God.”

They listen’d to the Maid, And they almost believed. Then spake Dunois, “ Wilt thou go with me, Maiden, to the King “ And there announce thy mission?”. Thus he said, For thoughts of politic craftiness arose Within him, and his unconfirmed faith Determined to prompt action. She replied, “ Therefore I sought the Lord of Vaucouleur, “ That with such credence as prevents delay, “ He to the King might send me. Now beseech you “ Speed our departure.”

a. Then Dunois address'd Sir Robert, “ Fare thee well, my friend and host! “ It were ill done to linger here when Heaven : “ Hath sent such strange assistance. Let what force

“ Lorraine can yield to Chinon follow us ;
“ And with the tidings of this holy Maid,
“ Rais’d up by God, fill thou the country; soon
“ The country shall awake as from the sleep
Of death. Now, Maid ! depart we at thy will."

“ God's blessing go with thee!" exclaim'd old Claude, “ Good Angels guard my girl!" and as he spake The tears stream’d fast adown his aged cheeks. “ And if I do not live to see thee more, “ As sure I think I shall not, yet sometimes “ Remember thine old Uncle. I have loved thee “ Even from thy childhood, JOAN! and I shall lose “ The comfort of mine age in losing thee. “But God be with thee, Child !”

Nor was the Maid, Tho' all subdued of soul, untroubled now In that sad parting;.. but she calm’d herself, Painfully keeping down her heart, and said, “ Comfort thyself, my Uncle, with the thought

“ Of what I am, and for what enterprize. “ Chosen from among the people. Oh be sure “ I shall remember thee, in whom I found A parent's love, when parents were unkind ! “ And when the ominous broodings of my soul “ Were scoff’d and made a mock of by all else, “ Thou for thy love didst hear me and believe. “ Shall I forget these things?” ... By this Dunois Had arm'd, the steeds stood ready at the gate; But then she fell upon the old man's neck And cried, “Pray for me!.. I shall need thy prayers! “ Pray for me that I fail not in my hour!" Thereat awhile, as if some awful thought Had overpower'd her, on his neck she hung ; Then rising with flush'd cheek and kindling eye, “ Farewell !" quoth she, “and live in hope ! anon “ Thou shalt hear tidings to rejoice thy heart, . “ Tidings of joy for all, but most for thee ! “ Be this thy comfort!" The old man received Her last embrace, and weeping like a child

Scarcely thro' tears could see them on their steeds Spring up and go their way.

So on they went,
And now along the mountain's winding path
Upward they journey'd slow, and now they paused
And gazed where o'er the plain the stately towers
Of Vaucouleur arose, in distance seen,
Dark and distinct; below the castled height,
Thro' fair and fertile pastures, the deep Meuse
Roll’d glittering on. Domremi's cottages
Gleam'd in the sun hard by, white cottages,

That in the evening traveller's weary mind
Had waken'd thoughts of comfort and of home,
Till his heart ached for rest. But on one spot,
One little spot, the Virgin's eye was fix’d,
Her native Arc; embower'd the hamlet lay
Upon the forest edge, whose ancient woods,
With all their infinite varieties,
Now form'd a mass of shade. The distant plain
Rose on the horizon rich with pleasant groves,

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