Who is Winifred LettsWinifred Mary Letts (1882–1972) was an English-born writer who spent most of her life in Ireland. She was known for her novels, plays and poetry.
She was born on 10 February 1882 in Broughton, Salford, in what was then the County of Lancaster, (now Greater Manchester), to an English father (the Revd Ernest Letts) and Irish mother (Isabel Mary Ferrier). She spent many childhood holidays in Knockmaroon, Phoenix Park, Dublin, which was her mother's home. After her father's death, she and her mother returned to Ireland and lived in a house called Dal Riada in Blackrock, County Dublin. She was educated first in Bromley in Kent and later at Alexandra College in Dublin. She trained as a masseuse and during World War I worked at army camps in Manchester.In 1926...
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Winifred Letts Poems
- Synge's Grave
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.
Top 10 most used topics by Winifred LettsPeace 1 Comfort 1 Travel 1 Sun 1 Spring 1 Sorrow 1 Son 1 Sleep 1 Silence 1 Rose 1
Winifred Letts Quotes
Comments about Winifred LettsMelaniejaxn: "that god once loved a garden we learn in holy writ. and seeing gardens in the spring i well can credit it." ~ winifred mary letts
Xhaworthx: the soldiers memorial gate was dedicated in 1921. a quote from ‘the spires of oxford’ by winifred m. letts is engraved on the arch along with a quote from ‘sacrifice’ by ralph waldo emerson.
Xhaworthx: they gave their merry youth away for country and for god. god rest you, happy gentlemen, who laid your good lives down. from the spires of oxford by winifred m. letts soldiers arch brown university honors 42 men (students, alumni & 1 faculty member) who lost their lives in wwi.
Karenievers: english poet winifred m. letts married wm h.f. verschoyle of kildare. whether wicklow or clare, ‘irish skies’ are magical! ‘i dream i see the wicklow hills by evening sunlight kissed, an' every glen and valley there brimful of radiant mist— the jewelled sky topaz and amethyst.’
Wherrypilgrim: "will you come back to us, men of our hearts.... ...will you leave the alien graves where you sleep and steal away to see the gables and eaves of home grow dark in the evening light?" winifred letts, hallowe'en, 1915" full poem here:
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