I salute, with grateful admiration
Foreign to the hireling eulogist,
Chesterton’s red hot self-revelation
In the guise of England’s annalist.
Here is no parade of erudition,
No pretence of calm judicial tone,
But the stimulating ebullition
Of a sort of humanized cyclone;
Unafraid of flagrant paradoxes,
Unashamed of often seeing red,