The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1869-02-23

Who forced Duke so soon to yield.
Sure "Patay"is goodiy sight,
Brave Talbot there assumed command;
But I'll for naught, his boasting, too,
She sweeps resistless through the land.
nations gratitude is hers,
For deeds so faught with good to all;
Her name is welcomed at the throne,
Where menials haste at every call
Brave Talbot big with self-conceit,
Looked like giant in the fight;
His wrath leaped forth in cannon roar,
But sank again e'er dusk of night.
prisoners lot was his to share
All subject to a peasant s will;
; His boasted prowess fed him then;
He found himself but human still.
When Patay fell the gladstone sound
Of victory, was heard again;
x The gentle breezes caught it up,
And bore it out DER field and plain.
The heart of France was merry then
Her daughters welcomed heroes home,
Her mothers wept for very joy,
When fathers steps were heard to come.
= How sweet a nations peace doth seem,
When war hath ceased her fierce alarm;
FITS like the fragrant, heavenly calm,
That follows close the widest storm.
That peace soon, for Reams then fell
The ast, lone, lingering hope of all;
They strove in vain to hurl her back,
But soldiers came not at their call.
They shrank to see the white flag wave
Above her column then in view;
They stood and gazed, struck blow,
Nor tried TO escape her gallant crew.
Her missions done-for France is free,
Her arm in God hath wrought the deed,
Her thoughts now of home and friends,
And for them, too, her heart doth bleed;
But no the Emperor bade her stay,
And reap the fruits so nobly earned:
For Kings, sometimes, will see the right,
Although, till this, he n'er had learned
To measure by the soul within,
The heart, the head, the might the love
That's given by mighty power,
And comes not bat from God above
The fields now spr ng to life anew,
Their fl wers bloom more fresh and brie eht,
Than when a nation struggled hard
To crush rebellion from her sight.
The placid streams flow gently on,
The bTeezes play in murmurs sweet,
The skies looked radiant, calm and still,
And daisies bioomed beneath their feet;
The world seemed loneliness around,
Nan smiled to man. each looked to God
With carts Of reverence profound
lie brought them from beneath the cd.
But thoughts will change in human minds,
Hearts full of love will soon grow cold;
nation S gratitude will wane-
And so it was in days of old,
When she, the maid Of Orleans, freed
Her native land from England's power,
Old time brought jealousy to bear,
And shame commenced that very hour.
And lords, who to the battle came,
Began to disgrace reflect
Her hadows Ger their high-born name,
While victory crowned their ever ' deed,
Through her who led them on to strife;
They were content to council her,
And thus preserve their naton's life.
But all too soon her deeds were lost
From sight, upon the hazy past;
They, too, conspired her overthrow
In jealousys avengng blast,
While nobly protecting France
From English rule, on border lands,
They shut her out from city walls.
'Tis thus the record boldly stands.
A handful 'gainst host she had
Advantage favored England then
She's captured Oh! what shame to brutes,
Much less what ,oitiertag shame to men!
price is set on thee, JOAN,
Ten thousand livres sparkle bright
The Duke of Bedford paid the gold
Thou vert his henceforward from that night.
Weep you who people frances soil
Weep, with grief too bitter far
For words to tell or mind to grasp,
For her your heroine of war!
Weep! for nstion's faith ignored
Weep! for treachery of sres gray
Weep! till your eyes floods of tears
Weep till the night doth Danish day
Then still weep on, through coming years,
And pray your God to pity, too,
Till SHE looks down from out the clouds
Who gave a country back to you
And bids the briny food to dry
Its unavaing, sickning grief,
Till God above in pitying tones.
Sends forth the balm of relief.
Then and not till them look up,
Nor faunt your chvalry in sight
Of strong armed freedom, lest its power
Sweep you into blacklist night.
For deeds so fraught with odors vile,
VIII curse the nation on whose page
OF history it there doth stand,
w hie ha nded down from age to age.
Enough we draw the murky vail
OF years to blind TO the truth,
That Kingdoms now powerful,
We're thus polluted in their youth.
A sorceress she's claimed to be-
While prison walls ali black and lone
Exclude the hallowed light of day.
Thy cell seemed dark but God was there
To shed his holy light around,
And make thy year of prison life
Yield gems that sparkle in thy crown
"Condemned to death y What terror rings
In these few words to sinners spoke
The uery flesh will toathe itself-
The blood will freeze, and utterance choke.
But terror came not to thy mind,
When they, on thee, that sentence passed;
Twas but release from things to loa the,
And passport into Heaven at last!
The funeral pile is close at hand,
They lead her through the crowd who press
To laugh with scorn her who bore
A card marked "Bold Idolatress ~
What cared she for the stain they cast
Or tried to cast, upon her name?
She had for each sweet, glad smile,
Nor uttered back a word of blame.
She II cunts the scaffpld where n state
Sat Bishops with holy book,
To talk OF Heaven nd mercy, too,
All oil which they had long forsook.
How christian courage stays the soul
With fortitu3e TO suffer all;
The headsmau's axe. the hangnan's rope,
No torture can the soul appal!
And so it was with her that day,
While bound upon the funeral pile,
Her life took wings ION the flames
Amid it all she sweetly smiled.
She is dead! What cur Sc. oh man of sin,
Should rend thy soul from body tar,
What vermin that doth creep the ground
What vulture that doth fv in air,
Is mean enough to feed on thee,
Or snuff the stencil that raises hi Oh
Not one will prey thee when dead
Go ask thy heart the reason why.
The angels sang her requiem,
Father looked in pity down!
Her soul then winged its fight above,
Her brow received golden crown!
Thy race is run-thou noble one
Nor taunts, nor jeers, can enter there
Where God the Father and the Son,
Doth watch DER thee with tender care.
There will be little the most stupen-
Gus blow cat in San Francisco some
Iere between next pea time and Fourth
JuIv that ever the Pacific Coast has