It’s easy to think of Christina Rossetti (1830–1894) as a caricature of her own extremes: morbid and (as other of her poems we have run in the Sun suggest) maybe a little hysterical, certainly strange ...

It was a hundred years ago — and so, in time, even the most modern of modern writers become the distant past — that William Carlos Williams (1883–1963) opened a 1923 collection of poetry and prose ...