Edwin Arlington Robinson

(22 December 1869 – 6 April 1935 / Maine / United States)

Edwin Arlington Robinson Poems

41. Erasmus 1/3/2003
42. Eros Turannos 1/3/2003
43. Exit 1/3/2003
44. Firelight 1/3/2003
45. Flammonde 1/3/2003
46. Fleming Helphenstine 1/3/2003
47. For A Dead Lady 1/3/2003
48. For Ariva 1/3/2003
49. For Some Poems By Matthew Arnold 1/3/2003
50. Fragment 1/3/2003
51. George Crabbe 1/3/2003
52. Her Eyes 1/3/2003
53. Hillcrest 1/3/2003
54. Horace To Leuconoë 1/3/2003
55. How Annandale Went Out 1/3/2003
56. Inferential 1/3/2003
57. Isaac And Archibald 1/3/2003
58. Job The Rejected 1/3/2003
59. John Brown 1/3/2003
60. John Evereldown 1/3/2003
61. John Gorham 1/3/2003
62. Lancelot 1/3/2003
63. Late Summer 1/3/2003
64. Lazarus 1/3/2003
65. Leffingwell 1/3/2003
66. L'Envoy 1/3/2003
67. Leonora 1/3/2003
68. Lingard And The Stars 1/3/2003
69. Lisette And Eileen 1/3/2003
70. Llewellyn And The Tree 1/3/2003
71. London Bridge 1/3/2003
72. Lost Anchors 1/3/2003
73. Luke Havergal 1/3/2003
74. Many Are Called 1/3/2003
75. Merlin 1/3/2003
76. Miniver Cheevy 1/3/2003
77. Modernities 1/3/2003
78. Momus 1/3/2003
79. Monadnock Through The Trees 1/3/2003
80. Mr. Flood's Party 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Edwin Arlington Robinson

Richard Cory

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 ...

Read the full of Richard Cory

Twilight Song

Through the shine, through the rain
We have shared the day’s load;
To the old march again
We have tramped the long road;
We have laughed, we have cried,
And we’ve tossed the King’s crown;
We have fought, we have died,
And we’ve trod the day down.
So it’s lift the old song

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