Who is Jean Starr Untermeyer

Jean Starr Untermeyer (March 13, 1886 – July 27, 1970) was an American poet, translator, and educator. She was the author of six volumes of poetry and a memoir. She was married to the poet Louis Untermeyer.

Biography

Starr was born into a well-off Jewish family in Zanesville, Ohio, the daughter of Abram Starr and Johanna Starr (née Schonfeld), the oldest of three siblings. Her maternal grandparents were immigrants from Germany.Starr was educated at Kohut College Preparatory School for Girls, in New York City, and then entered Columbia University. While still in college, she met the poet Louis Untermeyer, whom she married, on January 23, 1907, without finishing her degree. In December of the same year the couple's son Richard was born.Through her marriage Jean Un...
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Jean Starr Untermeyer Poems

  • Autumn
    (For my Mother)

    How memory cuts away the years,
    And how clean the picture comes...
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Top 10 most used topics by Jean Starr Untermeyer

Power 1 Wagon 1 Long 1 Earth 1 Winter 1 Water 1 Walk 1 Sunshine 1 Silver 1 Red 1


Jean Starr Untermeyer Quotes

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Comments about Jean Starr Untermeyer

Poetsorg: but now i think i must always cherish rain-hung leaf and the misty river; —jean starr untermeyer
Gattofritto: "my body is white and smooth and tender," sighed plotia in a whispering lament, "but you did not care to touch it." hermann broch, the death of virgil, 1945. [tr. jean starr untermeyer]
Librarianhawk: rain by jean starr untermeyer
Poetsorg: but now i think i must always cherish rain-hung leaf and the misty river; and the friendly screen of dripping green where eager kisses were shyly given and your pipe-smoke made clouds in our damp, close heaven. —jean starr untermeyer
Gattofritto: pregnant with shadows, liberal and loving in recovered naturalness, the night which was being swept along, carrying him onward in her branches, in her plumage, in her arms, in her breath, on her breast.” hermann broch, the death of virgil, 1945 [tr. jean starr untermeyer]
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Poem of the day

Eugene Field Poem
Suppose
 by Eugene Field

Suppose, my dear, that you were I
And by your side your sweetheart sate;
Suppose you noticed by and by
The distance 'twixt you were too great;
Now tell me, dear, what would you do?
I know-and so do you.

And when (so comfortably placed)
...

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