It is always idle to anticipate the verdict of posterity.
Remember Matthew Arnold's prophecy that at the end of the nineteenth century Wordsworth and Byron would be the two great names in Romantic poetry.

We are ten years and more past that date now, and so far as Byron is concerned, at any rate, there is no sign that Arnold's prediction has come true.

But the obvious fact that we cannot do our grandchildren's thinking for them, is no reason why we should refuse to think for ourselves.

No notion is so destructive to the formation of a sound literary taste as the notion that books become literature only when their authors are dead.

Round us men and women are putting into plays and poetry and novels the best that they can or know.