Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/358

316 And Christmas stories tortured into rhyme

Contain the essence of the true sublime.

Thus, when he tells the tale of Betty Foy,

The idiot mother of "an idiot Boy;"

A moon-struck, silly lad, who lost his way,

And, like his bard, confounded night with day;

So close on each pathetic part he dwells,

And each adventure so sublimely tells,

That all who view the "idiot in his glory"

Conceive the Bard the hero of the story.

Shall gentle pass unnoticed here,

To turgid ode and tumid stanza dear?

Though themes of innocence amuse him best,

Yet still Obscurity's a welcome guest.

If Inspiration should her aid refuse

To him who takes a Pixy for a muse,