Raising thee high above each earthly maiden.

"For when the bravest in the fight despair,
When France appears to wait her final blow,
Then thou my holy oriflamme must bear;
And, as the ripened corn the reapers mow,
Hew down the conqueror as he triumphs there;
His fortune's wheel thou thus wilt overthrow,
To France's hero-sons salvation bring,
Deliver Rheims once more, and crown thy king!"

The Lord hath promised to send down a sign
A helmet he hath sent, it comes from Him,--
His sword endows mine arm with strength divine,
I feel the courage of the cherubim;
To join the battle-turmoil how I pine!
A raging tempest thrills through every limb;
The summons to the field bursts on mine ear,
My charger paws the ground, the trump rings clear.


From The Maid of Orleans, act iv. scene 1.

SCENE--A hall prepared for a festival. The pillars are covered with
festoons of flowers; flutes and hautboys are heard behind the scene.

JOAN OF ARC (soliloquizing).

Each weapon rests, war's tumults cease to sound,
While dance and song succeed the bloody fray;