Robert Southey,
Joan of Arc (Southey) — Book the Second
(1796)
“ With power exclusive o'er the willing world, That blest prophetic Mandate then fulfill'd, Peace be on earth!) An happy while but brief She seem'd to wander with assiduous feet, And heal'd the recent harm of chill or blight,335 And nurs'd each plant that fair and virtuous grew. But soon a deep precursive sound moan'd hollow: Black rose the clouds, and now, (as in a dream) Their red'ning shapes transform'd to warrior hotss, Cours'd o'er the Sky, and battled in mid air.340 The Sea meantime his Billows darkest roll'd, And each stain'd wave dash'd on the shore a corse. ”
