Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/401

CANTO IV.] Each year brings forth its millions—but how long

The tide of Generations shall roll on,

And not the whole combined and countless throng

Compose a mind like thine? though all in one

Condensed their scattered rays—they would not form a Sun.

XL.

Great as thou art, yet paralleled by those,

Thy countrymen, before thee born to shine,

The Bards of Hell and Chivalry: first rose

The Tuscan Father's Comedy Divine;

Then, not unequal to the Florentine,

The southern Scott, the minstrel who called forth

A new creation with his magic line,

And, like the Ariosto of the North,

Sang Ladye-love and War, Romance and Knightly Worth.