In the pantheon of early twentieth-century British poetry, certain voices echo through the decades with enduring resonance, while others fade into the margins of literary history despite their once-prominent positions. Robert Malise Bowyer Nichols belongs to this latter category—a poet whose name once commanded respect in literary circles, whose work appeared alongside that of his more famous contemporaries, yet whos…
“They are gathered together because the book affords an opportunity to record appeals which are—save in one or two cases—to scarcely tangible emotions: those emotions which float across the mind like Coleridge's cloud, thin and pale and very high, and are of import to the very few.”