He came, and no man knew it; no man knew The wondrous boon to Scotland given; That there-beneath that grim and wintry blue- A glorious Poet, strong and true, Had newly dropp'd from heaven!

For him no silver cressets shed their light, No eager joy-bells sounded through the night From city minster, or from village tower; No loud 'hurrahs,' sent fro…

No royal palace was prepared for him; No silken courtiers slid from room to room, Gathering together in the gorgeous gloom Of purple hangings, drooping rich an…

Even if great poetry continues to be written, it has retreated from the center of literary life. Though supported by a loyal coterie, poetry has lost the confi…

Does there, I wonder, exist a being who has read all, or approximately all, that the person of average culture is supposed to have read, and that not to have r…

By and large, horror fiction is the most difficult to domesticate because part of the point is that it's one step ahead - or behind - everybody else's taste. A…