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User Rating: |
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7.2
/10
(34
votes)
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When these graven lines you see,
Traveller, do not pity me;
Though I be among the dead,
Let no mournful word be said.
Children that I leave behind,
And their children, all were kind;
Near to them and to my wife,
I was happy all my life.
My three sons I married right,
And their sons I rocked at night;
Death nor sorrow never brought
Cause for one unhappy thought.
Now, and with no need of tears,
Here they leave me, full of years,--
Leave me to my quiet rest
In the region of the blest.
Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Read poems about / on: children, sorrow, happy, death, night, life, son, child
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Comments about this poem (A Happy Man
by
Edwin Arlington Robinson
) |
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comments about this poem (A Happy Man by
Edwin Arlington Robinson
)
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John Shea
(2/18/2009 7:33:00 PM) |
old ed just wrote about real life...nothing more...nothing less
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Michelle Melody
(1/11/2009 9:53:00 PM) |
Aaah but the solving of the problem lies in the last words, the man is talking from the other side of death and he talks about being in the region of the blest... so he must've been a good man then right? ! Good and happy, resting peacefully. Would a dead person lie... a dead person has all the answers, so he must've been content with his life before death.
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Michael Pruchnicki
(1/11/2009 12:38:00 PM) |
There the happy man lies at rest 'in the region of the blest'! A contented elder savoring from beyond the grave his carefree and untroubled life among the living, he reflects on how he sailed through the troubles that may have beset others. And yet on second thought, this reader wonders if he didn't indeed slip and slide through his days on earth in the quiet sloughs of despond, ignoring reality for a humdrum existence measuring up to societal expectations. After all, he 'married his three sons right, ' suggesting that daddy knew best about the brides his sons should take. And he influenced his grandchildren from cradle to a consummation he doubtless had in mind for them from their day of birth. Perhaps his sons and his grandsons shed no tears at his going to his 'quiet rest, ' thankful to be rid of a 'happy man' who foisted his ideas of the good on them. Perhaps there were tears and sighs of anger at what he had done to them. As a notorious preacher intoned recently, it's not God bless a happy man, it's goddamn a miserable SOB!
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Michelle Melody
(1/11/2009 1:48:00 AM) |
I like this poem and it is possible to feel this way, anyone who doubts this have not spent enough time with a content elder.
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Angeline Andre
(1/11/2008 5:52:00 PM) |
i like it i think it was nice but i like edgar no bias
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Erik Lee
(1/11/2008 12:27:00 PM) |
A happy man, indeed. But words are images..
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Christopher Blanck
(1/11/2008 9:18:00 AM) |
no lord in this.
adgjadh; jgha; kgjhadlgjk; ; ad
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quercus ...
(1/11/2007 4:54:00 PM) |
I love this poem - it tells the story of a man who died with a great accomlishment -
a family he created out of his love and passion... A happy man indeed...
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Edwin Arlington Robinson
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