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PA U L R A M S E Y Yvor Winters High and cold that air! High and cold “From a great distance” looking forth (“From a great distance” is his phrase) from a mountain downward, standing stiff in that world of obscure mists, of hard trails vanishing upwards which he has in violence climbed and is sick of violence, sick of fever, of the wild caring of plenteous youth, there he stands. Wisdom is his name for the place, a place of bitterness, longing, nostalgia, perfected anger, of cost, careful understanding, of emotions trained like watch dogs, still fierce in their nature, restrained, yet fierce, strong, manful, and hostile. And tender. Tender sometimes. Tender towards those who face the journey which is a hard journey upward where old campfires darken, darken, the flowers thin out gradually beside the trail. In the slow mist there are many places to fall. Many have fallen. Reflect, then, on the nature of falling. Reason. Defend the high and cold summit. The Late 1950s and the 1960s ❚ 35 ...

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