Advance our waving colors on the walls;

1.6.2642Rescued is Orléans from the English.

1.6.3643Thus Joan la Pucelle hath performed her word.

Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter,

1.6.5645How shall I honor thee for this success?

1.6.6646Thy promises are like Adonis' garden,

1.6.7647That one day bloomed and fruitful were the next.

1.6.8648France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess.

1.6.9649Recovered is the town of Orléans.

1.6.10650More blessèd hap did ne'er befall our state.

Why ring not out the bells aloud 652throughout the town?

1.6.12653Dauphin command the citizens make bonfires

1.6.13654And feast and banquet in the open streets

1.6.14655To celebrate the joy that God hath given us.

All France will be replete with mirth and joy

1.6.16657When they shall hear how we have played the men.

'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won;

1.6.18659For which I will divide my crown with her,

1.6.19660And all the priests and friars in my realm

1.6.20661Shall in procession sing her endless praise.

1.6.21662A statelier pyramid to her I'll rear

1.6.22663Than Rhodope's of Memphis ever was.

1.6.23664In memory of her, when she is dead

1.6.24665Her ashes, in an urn more precious

1.6.25666Than the rich-jeweled coffer of Darius,

1.6.26667Transported, shall be at high festivals

1.6.27668Before the kings and queens of France.

1.6.28669No longer on Saint Denis will we cry,

1.6.29670But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint.

1.6.30671Come in, and let us banquet royally,

1.6.31672After this golden day of victory.