I had one of those magical teachers in public high school, a defrocked Jesuit who did God knows what, who gave me this odd detour into poetry and literature that I have treasured ever since. My heavy expertise lies elsewhere, but to him I owe a fair amount to what constitutes a well rounded serious liberal arts education.
I still remember his comment about Shakespere, delivered grandeloquently: he was a poucher, a philanderer, and a bounder, but he had one quality that you and I don't have: genius! As he said genius, his arm went up into the air, and his entire body seem to ascend from the floor.
And then it was on to Edna Vicent Millay, whom in a deep voice suffused with disdain in said: "ah, EVN, that epitomy of superficial emotional froth!"
How lucky you were! I had a dear lady named Mrs. Winters, who was also magical - if I had any idea where she was now, I'd write her a note of thanks.