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Lizette Woodworth Reese - The Good Joan
Work rating: Medium

A long the thousand roads of France, 
Now there, and here, swift as a glance, 
A cloud, a mist blown down the sky, 
Good Joan of Arc goes riding by. 
 
In Domremy at candlelight, 
The orchards blowing rose and white 
About the shadowy houses lie; 
And Joan of Arc goes riding by. 
 
On Avignon there falls a hush, 
Brief as the singing of a thrush 
Across old gardens April-high; 
And Joan of Arc goes riding by.
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