Adelaide Crapsey


Poet and Playwright


Full Name and Common Aliases


Adelaide Crapsey was born on September 9, 1878, in Brooklyn, New York, to a family of modest means. Her full name is often cited as Adelaide Crapsey, but she was also known as Ada or the "Poet Laureate of the Dunes."

Birth and Death Dates


September 9, 1878 – October 8, 1914

Nationality and Profession(s)


American poet, playwright, and short-story writer.

Early Life and Background


Growing up in a family of six children, Adelaide Crapsey was raised by her mother after her father's death when she was just three years old. Her family moved to New York City, where her mother instilled in her a love for literature and the arts. Despite struggling with poor health throughout her life, Crapsey attended Vassar College, graduating in 1904. It was during this time that she began writing poetry.

Major Accomplishments


Adelaide Crapsey's poetry is characterized by its unique use of imagery and symbolism. Her most notable works include "The Trillium", "Havergal", and "Rest for the Weed". She was also a pioneering playwright, penning several plays that were performed in local theaters.

Notable Works or Actions


Crapsey's poetry is marked by its use of free verse, which was innovative for its time. Her writing often explores themes of nature, mortality, and spirituality. One of her most famous poems, "April," captures the essence of springtime and has been widely anthologized.

Impact and Legacy


Despite struggling with poor health and living a relatively short life, Adelaide Crapsey left an indelible mark on American literature. Her innovative use of free verse paved the way for future generations of poets. Today, her work continues to be celebrated for its unique voice and perspective.

Why They Are Widely Quoted or Remembered


Adelaide Crapsey's poetry has been widely anthologized, and her quotes continue to inspire readers today. Her writing often explores themes that are still relevant today, such as the interconnectedness of nature and human experience. As a pioneering female poet, she paved the way for future generations of women writers.

In conclusion, Adelaide Crapsey was a trailblazing American poet, playwright, and short-story writer whose innovative use of free verse and exploration of themes that continue to resonate with readers today has cemented her place in literary history.

Quotes by Adelaide Crapsey

Adelaide Crapsey's insights on:

The oldOld winds that blewWhen chaos was, what doThey tell the clattered trees that IShould weep?
"
The oldOld winds that blewWhen chaos was, what doThey tell the clattered trees that IShould weep?
I knowNot these my handsAnd yet I think there wasA woman like me once had handsLike these.
"
I knowNot these my handsAnd yet I think there wasA woman like me once had handsLike these.
These be Three silent things: The Falling snow. . . the hour Before the dawn. . . the mouth of one Just dead.
"
These be Three silent things: The Falling snow. . . the hour Before the dawn. . . the mouth of one Just dead.
My object to venture the suggestion that an important application of phonetics to metrical problems lies in the study of phonetic word-structure.
"
My object to venture the suggestion that an important application of phonetics to metrical problems lies in the study of phonetic word-structure.
Sun and wind and beat of sea,
"
Sun and wind and beat of sea,
Listen ... With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break free from the trees And fall.
"
Listen ... With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break free from the trees And fall.
I make my shroud, but no one knows -- So shimmering fine it is and fair, With stitches set in even rows, I make my shroud, but no one knows. In door-way where the lilac blows, Humming a little wandering air, I make my shroud and no one knows, So shimmering fine it is and fair.
"
I make my shroud, but no one knows -- So shimmering fine it is and fair, With stitches set in even rows, I make my shroud, but no one knows. In door-way where the lilac blows, Humming a little wandering air, I make my shroud and no one knows, So shimmering fine it is and fair.
Listen . . .With faint dry sound,Like steps of passing ghosts,The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break from the treesAnd fall.
"
Listen . . .With faint dry sound,Like steps of passing ghosts,The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break from the treesAnd fall.
If itWere lighter touchThan petal of flower restingOn grass, oh still too heavy it were,Too heavy!
"
If itWere lighter touchThan petal of flower restingOn grass, oh still too heavy it were,Too heavy!
Pain ebbs, And like cool balm, An opiate weariness Settles on eye-lids, on relaxed Pale wrists.
"
Pain ebbs, And like cool balm, An opiate weariness Settles on eye-lids, on relaxed Pale wrists.
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