Richard Cory
Edwin Arlington Robinson
Whenever Richard Cory
went down town,
We people on the
pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from
sole to crown,
Clean favored, and
imperially slim.
And he was always
quietly arrayed,
And he was always human
when he talked;
But still he fluttered
pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich—yes, richer
than a king—
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the
bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
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