Who is Yvor Winters

Arthur Yvor Winters (17 October 1900 – 25 January 1968) was an American poet and literary critic.

Life Winters was born in Chicago, Illinois and lived there until 1919 except for brief stays in Seattle and in Pasadena, where his grandparents lived. He attended the University of Chicago for four quarters in 1917-18, where he was a member of a literary circle that included Glenway Wescott, Elizabeth Madox Roberts and his future wife Janet Lewis. In the winter of 1918-19 he was diagnosed with tuberculosis and underwent treatment for two years in Santa Fe, New Mexico. During his recuperation he wrote and published some of his early poems. On his release from the sanitarium he taught in high schools in nearby mining towns. In 1923 Winters published o...
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Yvor Winters Poems

  • To Emily Dickinson
    Dear Emily, my tears would burn your page,
    But for the fire-dry line that makes them burnâ??
    Burning my eyes, my fingers, while I turn
    Singly the words that crease my heart with age. ...
  • Alone
    I, one who never speaks,
    Listened days in summer trees,
    Each day a rustling leaf.
  • Sonnet To The Moon
    Now every leaf, though colorless, burns bright
    With disembodied and celestial light,
    And drops without a movement or a sound
    A pillar of darkness to the shifting ground. ...
  • On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills
    From the high terrace porch I watch the dawn.
    No light appears, though dark has mostly gone,
    Sunk from the cold and monstrous stone. The hills
    Lie naked but not light. The darkness spills ...
  • The Slow Pacific Swell
    Far out of sight forever stands the sea,
    Bounding the land with pale tranquillity.
    When a small child, I watched it from a hill
    At thirty miles or more. The vision still ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Yvor Winters

Night 8 Mind 7 Head 6 Small 6 Dark 6 Away 6 Vision 6 Fire 6 Deep 6 Hard 6

Yvor Winters Quotes

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Comments about Yvor Winters

  • Poetsorg: september faint gold! o think not here. —yvor winters
  • Foreversaroyan: "art, we feel, is abstract, howsoever it may be the results of concretes, of living." william saroyan in a letter to yvor winters, 1931
  • Ryanaboyd: jeff van gundy interrupting the broadcast to solemnly opine on the works of yvor winters
  • Poesispoesis: when i asked janet lewis [1899-1998] how she found time to write, raising two children & caring for a poet-husband [yvor winters ]-- “i put aside a few hours a day. probably the best hours. my working time has always been when everyone went to school.”
  • Lahmccabe: fie to anyone who thinks of yvor winters as a cold classicist! a prayer for my son.
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Poem of the day

Robert Browning Poem
From 'Pauline'
 by Robert Browning

O God, where does this tend-these struggling aims?
What would I have? What is this -sleep-, which seems
To bound all? can there be a -waking- point
Of crowning life? The soul would never rule-
It would be first in all things-it would have
Its utmost pleasure filled,-but that complete
Commanding for commanding sickens it.
The last point I can trace is, rest beneath

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