W Winifred Mabel Letts

Winifred Mabel Letts

17 şiir · 1882 — 1972 · England

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Winifred Mabel Letts was an English poet, novelist and playwright who lived much of her life in Ireland. In 1914 some of her poetry was set to music by the Irish composer Sir Charles Villiers Stanford who took six poems and called them A Sheaf of Songs from Leinster. The best known of these is one called A Soft Day. She came into the world in 1882, on the 10th February in Salford, a town which is now part of the large conurbation called Greater Manchester. Her father was an English clergyman and the family often holidayed in Dublin, her mother’s place of birth. Mother and daughter moved there on the death of the Reverend Letts, setting up home at Blackrock, County Dublin. Having begun her education in the south east of England, Winifred now went to the Alexandra College in Dublin. Winifred’s first literary successes came in the early 1900s when she wrote 2 1-act plays. These were performed at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin – one in 1906; the other three years later. She followed this up with a change of direction – books for both children and adults. After having a story published in The Irish Review at the beginning of 1912, the title of which was and she then produced her first collection of poetry the following year: She was a nurse during the First World War, stationed at least for part of the time near her place of birth in Manchester. Winifred still found the time to write though and a collection of poems came out in 1916. This collection was an extremely popular book and her publishers relaunched it the following year, but this time used the title of one of the best poems as the overall title for the collection. It was now called This poem is reproduced below and is a poignant description of wartime Oxford, that magnificent university city. But the main thrust of the piece is the tragic loss of the many young men whose studies and future glories were forfeited because they chose to march off to war instead. As the conflict rumbled on this poem caught the imagination of the people left behind: The ‘Publisher’s Note’ that prefaced the book explained the reason for the change of volume title very well. It said: Also included in this book was another harrowing tale called The Deserter which describes the terror and hopelessness of the soldier who turns and runs, instead of standing to fight, and who then pays the ultimate price for his actions. In stark contrast to her wartime writing, Winifred published a book for children in 1933 called Knockmaroon, which is considered by many to be her best book. It tells the story of her early years in Dublin, living at her grandparents’ house. She married late in life, at the age of 44, her husband being a widower. When he died, in 1943, she went to England for a time to live with her sisters in the pretty town of Faversham, Kent. The pull of Ireland was never far away though, and she returned there in 1950. She lived in a cottage in Killiney before moving into a nursing home during her later years. Winifred Mabel Letts died in 1972, at the grand old age of 90.

Winifred Mabel Letts şiirleri

Arama yardımı

I'VE heard a half a dozen times Folks call it Reims. That isn't right, though, so it seems, Perhaps it's Reims.…

İngilizce

John Delaney of the Rifles has been shot. A man we never knew, Does it cloud the day for you That he lies among the dead…

Ambassador of Christ you go Up to the very gates of Hell, Through fog of powder, storm of shell, To speak your Master's message: "Lo,…

İngilizce

My jewel of the world, she sleeps so fast, She will not hear you, Spring wind, if you blow; So let you shake the blossoms of the thorn Till her bed is hidden deep in Easter snow.…

"Why do you wait at your door, woman, Alone in the night?" "I am waiting for one who will come, stranger, To show him a light.…

They put the screens around his bed; a crumpled heap I saw him lie, White counterpane and rough dark head, those screens — they showed that he would die.…

MY grief! that they have laid you in the town Within the moidher of its thousand wheels And busy feet that travel up and down.…

There’s a woman sobs her heart out, With her head against the door, For the man that’s called to leave her, — God have pity on the poor!…

I SAW the Connaught Rangers when they were passing by, On a spring day, a good day, with gold rifts in the sky. Themselves were marching steadily along the Liffey quay An' I see th…

İngilizce

There was a man, - don't mind his name, Whom Fear had dogged by night and day. He could not face the German guns And so he turned and ran away.…

İngilizce

I think if I lay dying in some land Where Ireland is no more than just a name, My soul would travel back to find that strand From whence it came.…

İngilizce

IT'S in Connacht or in Munster that yourself might travel wide, And be asking all the herds you'd meet along the countryside, But you'd never meet a one could shew the likes of her…

I saw the spires of Oxford As I was passing by, The gray spires of Oxford Against the pearl-gray sky.…

İngilizce

To come at tulip time how wise! Perhaps you will not now regret The shining gardens, jewel set, Of your first home in Paradise…

Courage came to you with your boyhood's grace Of ardent life and limb. Each day new dangers steeled you to the test, To ride, to climb, to swim.…

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