The Vision of Judgment 095


Then Michael blew his trump, and still'd the noise 
With one still greater, as is yet the mode 
On earth besides; except some grumbling voice, 
Which now and then will make a slight inroad 
Upon decorous silence, few will twice 
Lift up their lungs when fairly overcrow'd; 
And now the bard could plead his own bad cause, 
With all the attitudes of self-applause. 

George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron (1788-1824)