#Byron vs Southey

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LXXXV At length with jostling, elbowing, and the aid   Of Cherubim appointed to that post, The devil Asmodeus to the circle made [675]   His way, and looked as if his journey cost Some trouble. When his burden down he laid,   "What's this?" cried Michael; "why, 'tis not a ghost?" "I know it," quoth the Incubus; "but he Shall be one, if you leave the affair to me. [680] LXXXVI "Confound the renegado! I have sprained   My left wing, he's so heavy; one would think Some of his works about his neck were chained.   But to the point; while hovering o'er the brink Of Skiddaw (where as usual it still rained), [685]   I saw a taper, far below me, wink, And stooping, caught this fellow at a libel— No less on History — than the Holy Bible. LXXXVII "The former is the Devil's scripture, and   The latter yours, good Michael: so the affair [690] Belongs to all of us, you understand.   I snatched him up just as you see him there, And brought him off for sentence out of hand:   I've scarcely been ten minutes in the air— At least a quarter it can hardly be: [695] I dare say that his wife is still at tea." LXXXVIII Here Satan said, "I know this man of old,   And have expected him for some time here; A sillier fellow you will scarce behold,   Or more conceited in his petty sphere: [700] But surely it was not worth while to fold   Such trash below your wing, Asmodeus dear: We had the poor wretch safe (without being bored With carriage) coming of his own accord. LXXXIX "But since he's here, let's see what he has done." [705]   "Done!" cried Asmodeus, "he anticipates The very business you are now upon,   And scribbles as if head clerk to the Fates. Who knows to what his ribaldry may run,   When such an ass as this, like Balaam's, prates?" 36  [710] "Let's hear," quoth Michael, "what he has to say: You know we're bound to that in every way." XC Now the bard, glad to get an audience, which   By no means often was his case below, Began to cough, and hawk, and hem, and pitch [715]   His voice into that awful note of woe To all unhappy hearers within reach   Of poets when the tide of rhyme's in flow; But stuck fast with his first hexameter, Not one of all whose gouty feet would stir. [720] XCI But ere the spavined dactyls could be spurred   Into recitative, in great dismay Both Cherubim and Seraphim were heard   To murmur loudly through their long array; And Michael rose ere he could get a word [725]   Of all his foundered verses under way, And cried, "For God's sake stop, my friend! 'twere best— 'Non Di, non homines'  — you know the rest." XCII A general bustle spread throughout the throng,   Which seemed to hold all verse in detestation; [730] The Angels had of course enough of song   When upon service; and the generation Of ghosts had heard too much in life, not long   Before, to profit by a new occasion: The Monarch, mute till then, exclaimed, "What! what!  [735] Pye?  come again? No more — no more of that!" XCIII The tumult grew; an universal cough   Convulsed the skies, as during a debate, When Castlereagh has been up long enough   (Before he was first minister of state, [740] I mean — the slaves hear now); some cried "Off, off!"   As at a farce; till, grown quite desperate, The Bard Saint Peter prayed to interpose (Himself an author) only for his prose. XCIV The varlet was not an ill-favoured knave; [745]   A good deal like a vulture in the face, With a hook nose and a hawk's eye, which gave   A smart and sharper-looking sort of grace To his whole aspect, which, though rather grave,   Was by no means so ugly as his case; [750] But that, indeed, was hopeless as can be, Quite a poetic felony "de se." 40 XCV Then Michael blew his trump, and stilled the noise   With one still greater, as is yet the mode On earth besides; except some grumbling voice, [755]   Which now and then will make a slight inroad Upon decorous silence, few will twice   Lift up their lungs when fairly overcrowed; And now the Bard could plead his own bad cause, With all the attitudes of self-applause. [760] XCVI He said — (I only give the heads) — he said,   He meant no harm in scribbling; 'twas his way Upon all topics; 'twas, besides, his bread,   Of which he buttered both sides; 'twould delay Too long the assembly (he was pleased to dread), [765]   And take up rather more time than a day, To name his works — he would but cite a few— "Wat Tyler" — "Rhymes on Blenheim" — "Waterloo." XCVII He had written praises of a Regicide;   He had written praises of all kings whatever; [770] He had written for republics far and wide,   And then against them bitterer than ever; For pantisocracy he once had cried   Aloud, a scheme less moral than 'twas clever; Then grew a hearty anti-jacobin— [775] Had turned his coat — and would have turned his skin. XCVIII He had sung against all battles, and again   In their high praise and glory; he had called Reviewing "the ungentle craft," and then   Became as base a critic as e'er crawled— [780] Fed, paid, and pampered by the very men   By whom his muse and morals had been mauled: He had written much blank verse, and blanker prose, And more of both than any body knows. XCIX He had written Wesley's life: — here turning round [785]   To Satan, "Sir, I'm ready to write yours, In two octavo volumes, nicely bound,   With notes and preface, all that most allures The pious purchaser; and there's no ground   For fear, for I can choose my own reviewers: [790] So let me have the proper documents, That I may add you to my other saints." C Satan bowed, and was silent. "Well, if you,   With amiable modesty, decline My offer, what says Michael? There are few [795]   Whose memoirs could be rendered more divine. Mine is a pen of all work; not so new   As it was once, but I would make you shine Like your own trumpet. By the way, my own Has more of brass in it, and is as well blown. [800] CI "But talking about trumpets, here's my 'Vision!'   Now you shall judge, all people — yes — you shall Judge with my judgment! and by my decision   Be guided who shall enter heaven or fall. I settle all these things by intuition, [805]   Times present, past, to come — Heaven — Hell — and all, Like King Alfonso.  When I thus see double, I save the Deity some worlds of trouble." CII He ceased, and drew forth an MS.; and no   Persuasion on the part of Devils, Saints, [810] Or Angels, now could stop the torrent; so   He read the first three lines of the contents; But at the fourth, the whole spiritual show   Had vanished, with variety of scents, Ambrosial and sulphureous, as they sprang, [815] Like lightning, off from his "melodious twang." CIII Those grand heroics acted as a spell;   The Angels stopped their ears and plied their pinions; The Devils ran howling, deafened, down to Hell;   The ghosts fled, gibbering, for their own dominions— [820] (For 'tis not yet decided where they dwell,   And I leave every man to his opinions); Michael took refuge in his trump — but, lo! His teeth were set on edge, he could not blow! CIV Saint Peter, who has hitherto been known [825]   For an impetuous saint, upraised his keys, And at the fifth line knocked the poet down;   Who fell like Phaeton, but more at ease, Into his lake, for there he did not drown;   A different web being by the Destinies [830] Woven for the Laureate's final wreath, whene'er Reform shall happen either here or there. CV He first sank to the bottom — like his works,   But soon rose to the surface — like himself; For all corrupted things are buoyed like corks, [835]   By their own rottenness, light as an elf, Or wisp that flits o'er a morass: he lurks,   It may be, still, like dull books on a shelf, In his own den, to scrawl some "Life" or "Vision," As Welborn says — "the Devil turned precision." [840] CVI As for the rest, to come to the conclusion   Of this true dream, the telescope is gone Which kept my optics free from all delusion,   And showed me what I in my turn have shown; All I saw farther, in the last confusion, [845]   Was, that King George slipped into Heaven for one; And when the tumult dwindled to a calm, I left him practicing the hundredth psalm. 42

“The Vision of Judgment”(1820) Lord Byron,  Cantos 85 to 106

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The Romantic Movement Essay Romantic Literature Essay Topics

This would make an excellent essay topic. Romantic Literature Essay Topics/Thesis Ideas. Romantic Themes - Romantic Movement. As a rule, it's difficult to pinpoint the exact start of a major literary movement. With the English romantic movement, however, a single book is cited as the impetus. In 1798, two young poets, William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, needed money to finance a trip to Germany, so they pooled some of the verses into a book, Lyrical Ballads . The collection was amazingly popular, and it enjoyed numerous reprintings. Most of the poems in Lyrical Ballads were penned by Wordsworth - only four were written by Coleridge. These two poets are usually referred to as the first generation romantic poets. They were soon followed by the second generation romantic poets - John Keats, Lord Byron, and Percy Bysshe Shelley. Other poets often included in this period are William Blake, Robert Burns, Walter Savage Landor, Leigh Hunt, and Robert Southey. Although poetry dominated English romanticism, some important novelists also made contributions. These include Mary Shelley, Jane Austen, Sir Walter Scott, and Thomas Love Peacock. Romantic novels you might be familiar with are Frankenstein (Mary Shelley), Ivanhoe (Sir Walter Scott), Nightmare Abbey (Thomas Love Peacock), and Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility , both by Jane Austen. If you've been assigned to write an essay pertaining to English romanticism, I'm offering you some romantic literature essay topics and thesis ideas, found below. Neoclassical vs. Romantic. The literary period prior to the Romantic period is often referred to as Neoclassical, and the literature produced in each period was significantly different to the works published in the other period. Choose a slice of your story that represents you at your very best and tell it in excruciating detail.... View more ...