“It is true that the poet does not address his neighbors directly; but he addresses a great congress of people who dwell in the recesses of his mind, a congress of all those who have taught him and whom he has admired; who constitute his ideal audience and his best self” (“Richard Wilbur,” National Book Foundation). Richard Wilbur uttered this famous quote during his National Book Award speech in 1957. Many of the events in Wilbur's life transitioned into his acceptance of this award, but he did not know what direction his life was taking at the time. From the events of his early childhood, when he learned to write from his maternal grandfather and great-grandfather, to his subsequent becoming a World War II veteran and graduation from Harvard University, and everything in between, Richard Wilbur spent the rest of his life by creating a breathtaking assortment of poems that largely connected to his early life. Richard Wilbur's birth and early life led to his first spark of interest in writing at a young age when he met his grandfather and great-grandfather. He was born on March 1, 1921 in New York City, New York (Haralson 759). Richard lived in North Caldwell, New Jersey for the remainder of his pastoral childhood with his middle-class family (Joy). They resided on a large property and did not have many neighbors (Joy). He enjoyed walking to random places on the property with his brothers, and he enjoyed nature, which inspired some of his later poems (Joy). Wilbur's maternal grandfather and great-grandfather were both publishers, and Wilbur began to acquire a love of journalism stronger than a love of painting like his father (“Richard Wilbur,” Poetry Foundation). He enjoyed the company of his grandfather and his gre......middle of paper......people think more about the life they live in every day. His poems are linked to his life, for example the nature poems in The Beautiful Changes are linked to his life on a large estate and his connections to his time on the battlefield. Wilbur concluded his National Book Award acceptance speech by saying, “Writing poetry, then, is an antisocial way of manufacturing a thoroughly social product. Because he must protect his poetry in his creation, the poet, more than other writers, will write without recognition. And since his product is not in great demand, he is likely to look at honors and distinctions with the feigned indifference of a wallflower. Yet, of course, he is happy when recognition comes; for what better proof is there that to some people poetry is still a useful and necessary thing – like a shoe” (“Richard Wilbur,” National Book Foundation).