Byron, save such poems as 'Don Juan' or 'The Waltz,' he could but did not read, for fear of setting a bad example.

Burns, Shelley, and Keats he did not care for.

Browning pained him, except by such things as: 'How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix' and the 'Cavalier Tunes'; while of 'Omar Khayyam' and 'The Hound of Heaven' he definitely disapproved.
For Shakespeare he had no real liking, though he concealed this, from humility in the face of accepted opinion.

His was a firm mind, sure of itself, but not self-assertive.

His points were so good, and he had so many of them, that it was only when he met any one touched with poetry that his limitations became apparent; it was rare, however, and getting more so every year, for him to have this unpleasant experience.
When summoned by his wife, he came in with a wrinkle between his straight brows; he had just finished a morning's work on a drainage scheme, like the really good fellow that he was.