Shall fainting yearn for glimpse of thee,
Oh, rise upon our sight!
Joan Before Rheims
We marched, marched, kept on marching; and at last, on the 16th of July, we came in sight of our goal and saw the great cathedral towers of Rheims rise out of the distance! Huzza after huzza swept the army from van to rear; and as for Joan of Arc, there where she sat her horse, gazing, clothed all in white armor, dreamy, beautiful, and in her face a deep, deep joy, a joy not of earth, oh, she was not flesh, she was a spirit! Her sublime mission was closing—closing in flawless triumph. To-morrow she could say, “It is finished—let me go free.”
Joan’s Reward
The fantastic dream, the incredible dream, the impossible dream of the peasant child stood fulfilled; the English power was broken, the heir of France was crowned.
She was like one transfigured, so divine was the joy that shone in her face as she sank to her knees at the king’s feet and looked up at him through her tears. Her lips were quivering, and her words came soft and low and broken:
“Now, O gentle king, is the pleasure of God accomplished according to his command that you should come to Rheims and receive the crown that belongeth of right to you, and unto none other. My work which was given me to do is finished; give me your peace, and let me go back to my mother, who is poor and old, and has need of me.”
The king raised her up, and there before all that host he praised her great deeds in most noble terms; and there he confirmed her nobility and titles, making her the equal of a count in rank, and also appointed a household and officers for her according to her dignity; and then he said:
“You have saved the crown. Speak—require—demand; and whatsoever grace you ask it shall be granted, though it make the kingdom poor to meet it.”