POETS born on the edge of a new era stand in
peculiar danger of being misunderstood and
depreciated by the generations that follow. Since time
never stands still, and one age is forever melting into
the next, any poet has to take a rather desperate
chance of appealing to readers beyond his own day.
There is always the possibility, to be sure, that he
may be more highly esteemed than by his contempo-
raries—a faint hope that has buoyed up many who
were destined to drown in the waters of oblivion—
but this does not often happen. The inevitable
revaluation usually marks the poet down to a lower
figure. Sometimes he has to wait a few centuries be-
fore he is understood and appreciated again. John
Donne is an example in point. If the shift of ideas
and taste can be so upsetting, what is likely to be the
fate of a poet who happens to write while his medium
of expression is in process of change? Suppose the
form of verbs and nouns is altered, suppose some
pronouns go out and others come in, suppose the
habits of speech and the meaning of words become
very different within a century or so after he dies.
His chances of continuing fame will be by that much
more reduced. If he continues in high repute, it must
be because of qualities in his work that can be seen
and appreciated despite difficulties of language as
well as changes of opinion and taste.

Geoffrey Chaucer met triumphantly both these
tests. He had perfected from the speech of educated
folk in London at his time a poetical instrument as
flexible and melodious, as capable of expressing a

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