Lord Byron (1788–1824). Poetry of Byron. 1881.
IV. SatiricPoetical Commandments
I
I’ll write poetical commandments, which
Shall supersede beyond all doubt all those
That went before; in these I shall enrich
My text with many things that no one knows,
And carry precept to the highest pitch:
I’ll call the work “Longinus o’er a Bottle,
Or, Every Poet his own Aristotle.”
Thou shalt not set up Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey; Because the first is crazed beyond all hope, The second drunk, the third so quaint and mouthy: With Crabbe it may be difficult to cope, And Campbell’s Hipprocrene is somewhat drouthy: Thou shalt not steal from Samuel Rogers, nor Commit—flirtation with the muse of Moore. His Pegasus, nor any thing that’s his; Thou shalt not bear false witness like “the Blues”— (There’s one, at least, is very fond of this); Thou shalt not write, in short, but what I choose: This is true criticism, and you may kiss— Exactly as you please, or not—the rod; But if you don’t, I’ll lay it on, by G—d!