I lived from 1878-1967.
I was from England, and am in the English category.
I influenced poets William M.P. McFee, Cicely Fox Smith.
I was influenced by poets Edwin James Brady, Rudyard Kipling, William Butler Yeats.
Poet, novelist, dramatist and journalist, John Masefield's literary career was rich and varied, and although his reputation waned in later years, he is again being recognized for his wide range, encompassing ballads, nature poetry and mythological narrative, and for his attempt to make poetry a popular art.
John Masefield (1878-1967)
(English Poet Laureate, 1930-1967)
Read full description by publishingcentral.com...
Masefield was born in the ancient town of Ledbury, surrounded by beautiful countryside in the region of Herefordshire, England, on June 1, 1878. This picturesque area, located near the border of Wales, was described by Masefield as his "Paradise". As a young boy, Masefield was able to roam his nearby countryside, delighting in watching the ships moving up and down the local canal; wandering alone through the meadows and woods; and taking an interest in and observing the beauty of the natural flora and fauna of the area.
As a teenager Masefield was educated as a cadet on board the sail-training ship H. M. S. Conway and later went to sea as an apprentice in a square-rigged ship which rounded Cape Horn. A few years later he had to give up the sea for health reasons but his experience is reflected in his nautical poems.
By the age of 24, Masefield’s poems were being published frequently in various periodicals and his first collected works, SALT-WATER BALLADS, was published in 1902 and enjoyed immediate success. "Sea Fever", one of if not the widest known poems of Masefield’s, appeared in this book.
Masefield entered the decade of the 1920's as a now accomplished and respected writer and author. His family was finally able to settle in a somewhat rural setting, not far from Oxford, on property where he was able to enjoy his woodlands and country atmosphere and again delight in wild birds, and the natural beauty of the outdoors. Masefield took up a hobby of beekeeping, looked after a herd of goats as well as keeping poultry. One of his favourite places to write was in his study set out in the middle of a gorse bush. From here, he produced a variety of works including plays, novels, lectures and speeches, children's books, but of course, he felt his true calling was in poetry, and his efforts in this regard were the most important to him. Masefield continued to meet with success, and in fact the 1923 edition of COLLECTED POEMS sold approximately 80,000 copies, a huge amount certainly for a book of poetry! As well, during this time, his speaking engagements called him as far away as the Middle East, and again to the United States.
During the early 1920’s, Masefield received an Honorary Doctorate of Literature from Oxford University, and other English and Scottish Universities also bestowed honorary degrees upon him. His close proximity to Oxford afforded him the opportunity to meet and befriend several of the University officials. In 1923, Masefield organized the Oxford Recitations, a contest held annually whose purpose was "to discover good speakers of verse and to encourage ‘the beautiful speaking of poetry.’" Masefield strongly believed that poetry should be spoken with voice and that medium of communicating verse was more important than printed poetry.
On May 12, 1967, John Masefield passed away, after having suffered through a spread of gangrene up his leg as a result of a minor injury sometime earlier. He was cremated as were his wishes to be, and his ashes were placed in the Poets’ Corner at Westminster Abbey. Later, the following verse was discovered, written by Masefield, addressed to his ‘Heirs, Administrators, and Assigns’:
Let no religious rite be done or read
In any place for me when I am dead,
But burn my body into ash, and scatter
The ash in secret into running water,
Or on the windy down, and let none see;
And then thank God that there’s an end of me.
Popular poetry
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
13 lines, 17 comments
Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
16 lines, 26 comments
On old Cold Crendon's windy tops
Grows wintrily Blown Hilcote Copse,
1517 lines
Laugh and be merry, remember, better the world with a song,
Better the world with a blow in the teeth of a wrong.
19 lines, 65,535 comments
We were schooner-rigged and rakish, with a long and lissome hull,
And we flew the pretty colours of the cross-bones and the skull;
28 lines, 2 comments
The meet was at "The Cock and Pye
By Charles and Martha Enderby,"
1372 lines
It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries;
I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes.
28 lines, 65,535 comments
Thy place is biggyd above the sterrys cleer,
Noon erthely paleys wrouhte in so statly wyse,
1691 lines
We're bound for blue water where the great winds blow,
It's time to get the tacks aboard, time for us to go;
21 lines
“When I’m discharged at Liverpool ‘n’ draws my bit o’ pay,
I won’t come to sea no more;
19 lines, 2 comments
Start a forum topic about this poet
|