even admirable in a philosopher, detestable in a 
poet. 
Similar remarks apply to his lyrics.  Some appear 
to me to be vile plagiarisms in metre, form, and 
language; others as among the best and loveliest we 
have of any poet, living or dead.  “ The roses of the 
world are sad ” and “ I have no heart to sing ” 
are, in my opinion, unsurpassed in any language.  
Their presence alone is sufficient apology for the 
publication of an otherwise objectionable book. 
 
G.K. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
xx