Merciful Overcome

Jean D’Arc was but fifteen years old
An unusually pious girl
When visions started in their glory
‘Fore her inner eyes unfurl

When questioned with hidden intent
To make her to betters defer
She turned religious tables
On her every questioner

Even when her prince dressed down
To lose himself his men among
Yet found himself self approached
By face and form so fair and young

So sweet, naive and innocent
That he agreed to walk aside
And hear what she might say to him
Coming back with eyes as wide

As proverbial saucers, he
Gave her unfettered sovreignty
Over his armies in the field
However young and fair she be

They say that she for days could go
Nor need her armor to remove
They say of her so many things
The which her fitting sainthood prove

They say that after she was sold
Own liberated country by
To their defeated enemy
That they for witchcraft might her try

Evidence of integrity
Her pyre’s witnesses learnt
By immediate evidence:
Her holy heart could not be burnt

Refusing consumed thus to be
By aught as base as fire
Which had not been consumed
Already in her Lord’s desire

But to this simple poet, the
Character trait that she possess
Which speaks most unequivocally
Of her native holiness

Was her nocturnal habit
Once the guns had fallen still
Of weeping o’er young soldiers
Of which hers had made a kill

Not only did her heart go out
To her own people, no
It was to all those suffering
It unconditionally go

So soon was France again their own
So eager they to ease their fears
Of her pow’r once their work was done
She saw not even twenty years

Oh, Joan, their pond’rous harrying
Never did your spirit break
I hope it retroactively,
For that nineteen year old girl’s sake,

That you awareness of were saved
As up your form the red flame come
I pray that by the swirling smoke
You were merciful overcome


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