Wolf and the Casket

Though Wolf, in hypercritic zeal, insists
On breaking up that old Ionian harp,
And parcels out to many melodists
The Chian's lonely fame, — he cannot warp
Our common sense, pervert our natural taste;
Great Aristotle, and that warrior-youth
Of old, held simpler views of Epic truth;
Master and pupil felt his unity;
And, when the monarch in his casket placed
The roll, the verdict of a world he took:
In truth, a plural Homer cannot be!
One Muse maintains the quarrels and the loves
One ardent voice, like Heaven-sent Ossa, moves
The war from fight to fight, from book to book.