Having wound up with this sublime comparison,
Methinks we may proceed upon our narrative,
And, as my friend Scott says, “I sound my warison;”
Scott, the superlative of my comparative—
Scott, who can paint your Christian knight or Saracen,
Serf—Lord—Man, with such skill as none would share it, if
There had not been one Shakespeare and Voltaire,
Of one or both of whom he seems the heir.