Byron as an embryo, Behold the unborn Byron grow. His budding brain grows ears and eyes. Soon he swells to twice his size. He drinks in with his mother's blood A subtle, philosophic food Distilled from that good woman's sense A strong poetic influence. She calls him and he answers back, From the amniotic sac: (he says) "Spread the word, tomorrow morn A future poet shall be born. From my mother I shall fall Into the womb that holds us all. My life shall be a meteor Which generations shall adore. For my unbuttoned liberty The unborn will remember me."