Norman Holmes Pearson, I know you're dead, but I bet it wouldn't have killed you to read what your poet wrote.

Indeed. Perhaps the shades of biographers are like the commentators Gulliver saw in Glubbdubdrib, who "always kept in the most distant quarters from their principals, in the lower world, through a consciousness of shame and guilt, because they had so horribly misrepresented the meaning of those authors to posterity." One can hope.