O Maid of @3Arc!@1 why dare I not to say Of @3Orleans?@1 There thro' flames thy glory shone. Accursed, thrice accursed, be the day When English tongues could mock thy parting groan. With Saints and Angels art thou seated now, And with true-hearted patriots, host more rare! To thine is bent in love a Milton's brow, With many a Demon under .. and Voltaire. |