attend

XXXVII.

The tears and praises of all time, while thine
Would rot in its oblivion--in the sink
Of worthless dust, which from thy boasted line
Is shaken into nothing--but the link
Thou formest in his fortunes bids us think
Of thy poor malice, naming thee with scorn:
Alfonso! how thy ducal pageants shrink
From thee! if in another station born,[mi]
Scarce fit to be the slave of him thou mad'st to mourn:

XXXVIII.

_Thou!_ formed to eat, and be despised, and die,
Even as the beasts that perish--save that thou
Hadst a more splendid trough and wider sty:--
_He!_ with a glory round his furrowed brow,
Which emanated then, and dazzles now,
In face of all his foes, the Cruscan quire,[418][10.H.]
And Boileau, whose rash envy could allow[mj]
No strain which shamed his country's creaking lyre,
That whetstone of the teeth--Monotony in wire![mk][419]

XXXIX.

Peace to Torquato's injured shade! 'twas his
In life and death to be the mark where Wrong
Aimed with her poisoned arrows,--but to miss.
Oh, Victor unsurpassed in modern song!
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[ml]
Condensed their scattered rays--they would not form a Sun.[mm]

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,[420]
Sang Ladye-love and War, Romance and Knightly Worth.

XLI.

The lightning rent from Ariosto's bust[11.H.]
The iron crown of laurel's mimicked leaves;
Nor was the ominous element unjust,
For the true laurel-wreath which Glory weaves[12.H.]
Is of the tree no bolt of thunder cleaves,
And the false semblance but disgraced his brow;
Yet still, if fondly Superstition grieves,
Know, that the lightning sanctifies below[13.H.]