You are here

»
»
قراءة كتاب
Books by Subject
Best Views
Newest
Authors

قراءة كتاب Joan of Arc

تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"

‏اللغة: English
Joan of Arc

Joan of Arc

تقييمك:
0
No votes yet
المؤلف:
دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 1


JOAN OF ARC

Books By Laura E. Richards

Joan of Arc
A Daughter of Jehu
Abigail Adams and Her Times
Pippin
Elizabeth Fry
Florence Nightingale
Mrs. Tree
Mrs. Tree's Will
Miss Jimmy
The Wooing of Calvin Parks
Journal and Letters of Samuel
 Gridley Howe
Two Noble Lives
Captain January
A Happy Little Time
When I Was Your Age
Five Minute Stories
In My Nursery
The Golden Windows
The Silver Crown
The Joyous Story of Toto
The Life of Julia Ward Howe

With Maud Howe Elliott,
Etc., etc.

Joan of Arc

Joan of Arc

JOAN OF ARC

BY

LAURA E. RICHARDS

AUTHOR OF "FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE," "ABIGAIL ADAMS
AND HER TIMES," "ELIZABETH FRY," ETC.

logo

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK   LONDON
1919

COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

TO
THE MEMORY OF
THEODORE ROOSEVELT
"ALSO A SOLDIER"

The extracts from "Joan of Arc," by Francis C. Lowell, are used by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company.

Selections from "The Maid of France," by Andrew Lang, are used by permission of Messrs. Longmans, Green & Co.

Theodosia Garrison's poem, "The Soul of Jeanne d'Arc," is reproduced by permission of Chas. Scribner's Sons.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE
I.   France Imperishable 1
II.   The Lion and the Lilies 19
III.   Domrémy 32
IV.   Grapes of Wrath 46
V.   The Voices 57
VI.   The Empty Throne 69
VII.   Vaucouleurs and Chinon 83
VIII.   Recognition 100
IX.   Orleans 117
X.   The Relief 132
XI.   The Deliverance 142
XII.   The Week of Victories 163
XIII.   Rheims 181
XIV.   Paris 197
XV.   Compiègne 214
XVI.   Rouen 239

CHAPTER I FRANCE IMPERISHABLE

THE SOUL OF JEANNE D'ARC

She came not into the Presence as a martyred saint might come,
Crowned, white-robed and adoring, with very reverence dumb—
She stood as a straight young soldier, confident, gallant, strong,
Who asks a boon of his captain in the sudden hush of the drum.
She said: "Now have I stayed too long in this my place of bliss,
With these glad dead that, comforted, forget what sorrow is
Upon that world whose stony stair they climbed to come to this.
"But lo, a cry hath torn the peace wherein so long I stayed,
Like a trumpet's call at Heaven's wall from a herald unafraid,—
A million voices in one cry, 'Where is the Maid, the Maid?'
"I had forgot from too much joy that olden task of mine,
But I have heard a certain word shatter the chant divine,
Have watched a banner glow and grow before mine eyes for sign.
"I would return to that my land flung in the teeth of war,
I would cast down my robe and crown that pleasure me no more,
And don the armor that I knew, the valiant sword I bore.
"And

Pages