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 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
Pallid she sat
More than her wont, the rest around her standing:
Then first, then last, she parleyed with a Doubt.
With lips compressed at last she made reply:
‘Be it. This second task may meet from God
Acceptance, yet is not of God's command.’
A trivial sin save that in Souls so great
No sin is trivial—claims a trivial penance:
An Error:—yet it gave the Maid her crown!
More than her wont, the rest around her standing:
Then first, then last, she parleyed with a Doubt.
With lips compressed at last she made reply:
‘Be it. This second task may meet from God
Acceptance, yet is not of God's command.’
A trivial sin save that in Souls so great
No sin is trivial—claims a trivial penance:
An Error:—yet it gave the Maid her crown!
A feastful week the King abode at Rheims
With tournament and dance where brightest eyes
Flashed brighter. Round the monarch nobles flocked
Ice-cold till then. Lorraine's old duke, and Bar,
Damoiseau de Commercy; knights uncounted.
King Charles, long pleasure-fooled, fought well when tested.
Leon and Soisson, Provins, Chateau-Treve,
Willing or forced, submitted: later on
Beauvais right gladly, Sens, and St. Denis.
Bedford's great duke, left regent by King Henry,
At Paris crowned his babe. Vainly with all
Consummate soldiership could work, all craft
Of march and countermarch by him alone
Possessed, that regent kept at bay his fate
Till Beaufort joined him with five thousand men.
Charles triumphed; yet the war had suffered change:
Less music in the camp was heard, less prayer.
The men who first to Orleans marched unhired,
Now sweated in their farms. Its inspiration
Had died from off the countenance of the war,
Failed from its inmost heart. Strategic skill
Supplied its place but scantly. Jealousies
Crept forth. To stifle such the Maid renounced
Sole and supreme command. The Battle's van
Thenceforward was her place.
With tournament and dance where brightest eyes
Flashed brighter. Round the monarch nobles flocked
Ice-cold till then. Lorraine's old duke, and Bar,
Damoiseau de Commercy; knights uncounted.
King Charles, long pleasure-fooled, fought well when tested.
Leon and Soisson, Provins, Chateau-Treve,
347
Beauvais right gladly, Sens, and St. Denis.
Bedford's great duke, left regent by King Henry,
At Paris crowned his babe. Vainly with all
Consummate soldiership could work, all craft
Of march and countermarch by him alone
Possessed, that regent kept at bay his fate
Till Beaufort joined him with five thousand men.
Charles triumphed; yet the war had suffered change:
Less music in the camp was heard, less prayer.
The men who first to Orleans marched unhired,
Now sweated in their farms. Its inspiration
Had died from off the countenance of the war,
Failed from its inmost heart. Strategic skill
Supplied its place but scantly. Jealousies
Crept forth. To stifle such the Maid renounced
Sole and supreme command. The Battle's van
Thenceforward was her place.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |