[Vide ante, p. 131]

Book I, ll. 33-51.

"O France," he cried, "my country"!
When soft as breeze that curls the summer clouds
At close of day, stole on his ear a voice [35]
Seraphic.
"Son of Orleans! grieve no more.
His eye not slept, tho' long the All-just endured
[[1028]] The woes of France; at length his bar'd right arm
Volleys red thunder. From his veiling clouds
Rushes the storm, Ruin and Fear and Death. 40
Take Son of Orleans the relief of Heaven:
Nor thou the wintry hours of adverse fate
Dream useless: tho' unhous'd thou roam awhile,
The keen and icy wind that shivers thee
Shall brace thine arm, and with stern discipline [45]
Firm thy strong heart for fearless enterprise
As who, through many a summer night serene
Had hover'd round the fold with coward wish;
Horrid with brumal ice, the fiercer wolf
From his bleak mountain and his den of snows 50
Leaps terrible and mocks the shepherd's spears."

ll. 57-59.

nor those ingredients dire
Erictho mingled on Pharsalia's field,
Making the soul retenant its cold corse.

ll. 220-222.

the groves of Paradise
Gave their mild echoes to the choral songs
Of new-born beings.—

ll. 267-280.

And oft the tear from his averted eye
He dried; mindful of fertile fields laid waste,
Dispeopled hamlets, the lorn widow's groan,
And the pale orphan's feeble cry for bread. 270
But when he told of those fierce sons of guilt
That o'er this earth which God had fram'd so fair—
Spread desolation, and its wood-crown'd hills
Make echo to the merciless war-dog's howl;
And how himself from such foul savagery 275
Had scarce escap'd with life, then his stretch'd arm
Seem'd, as it wielded the resistless sword
Of Vengeance: in his eager eye the soul
Was eloquent; warm glow'd his manly cheek;
And beat against his side the indignant heart. 280

ll. 454-460.