In sacred vests, a venerable train, They stand. The delegated Maid obeys Their summons. As she came, a loveliest blush O'er her fair cheek suffus'd, such as became One mindful still of maiden modesty, Tho' of her own worth conscious. Thro' the aisle The cold wind moaning as it pass'd along Waved her dark flowing locks. Before the train The waste of winter. By the Maiden's side The Son of Orleans stood, prepared to vouch That when on Charles the Maiden's eye had fix'd, As led by power miraculous, no fraud, Nor juggling artifice of secret sign Dissembled inspiration. As he stood Steadily viewing the mysterious rites, Thus to the attentive Maid the Arch-Priest spake Severe. "Woman, if any fiend of hell "Lurk in thy bosom, so to prompt the vaunt "That damned spirit adjure I to depart Slowly he spake, And sprinkled water on the virgin's face: Indignant at the unworthy charge, the Maid Felt her cheek flush, but soon the transient glow Fading, she answer'd meek. "How far unworthy, conscious: yet tho' mean, "To call your minds from studies wise and deep, "Of man profane." "Thou speakest," said the Priest, "Of dark and shadowing visions of the night. "Canst thou remember, Maid, what vision first "Seem'd more than Fancy's shaping? From such tale, Minutely told with accurate circumstance, "Best judgement might be formed." The Maid replied, "Amid the mountain vallies I had driven 66 My father's flock. The eve was drawing on, "When by a sudden storm surprized, I sought "A chapel's neighbouring shelter; ruin'd now, "But I remember when its vesper bell "Was heard among the hills, a pleasant sound, "Had sack'd the hamlet near, and none was left "Saint Agnes' chapel. In the desolate pile "Was holy ground. It was a fearful night! 66 Devoutly to the virgin Saint I pray'd, "Then heap'd the wither'd leaves which autumn winds "Had drifted in, and laid me down upon them, "And sure I think I slept. But so it was "That, in the dead of night, Saint Agnes stood "Before mine eyes, such and so beautiful "As when, amid the house of wickedness, "The Power whom with such fervent love she served "Veil'd her with glory. And she seem'd to point "To the moss-grown altar, and the crucifix "Half hid by weeds and grass;.. and then I thought "I could have wither'd armies with a look, "For from the present Saint such divine power "I felt infused....'Twas but a dream perhaps. "And yet methought that when a louder peal "Burst o'er the roof, and all was left again "Utterly dark, the bodily sense was clear "Brethren, ye have heard "The woman's tale. Beseems us now to ask "Whether of holy Church a duteous child "Before our court appears, so not unlike |