What comes in the blinding light,
--Rainbow plumes and armour,
Face as the sun in his height . . .
'Angel that pierced the red dragon,
Pity for France, O pity!
Holy one, thou shalt save her,
Vineyard and village and city!'

Poor sweet child of Domremy,
In thine innocence only strong,
Thou seest not the treason before thee,
The gibe and the curse of the throng,--
The furnace-pile in the market
That licks out its flames to take thee;--
For He who loves thee in heaven
On earth will not forsake thee!

Poor sweet maid of Domremy,
In thine innocence secure,
Heed not what men say of thee,
The buffoon and his jest impure!
Nor care if thy name, young martyr,
Be the star of thy country's story:--
Mid the white-robed host of the heavens
Thou hast more than glory!

_Angel that pierced_; 'She _had pity_, to use the phrase for ever on her
lip, _on the fair realm of France_. She saw visions; St. Michael
appeared to her in a flood of blinding light': (_Green_, B. IV: ch. vi).