Edwin Arlington Robinson

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

How Annandale Went Out - Poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson

“They called it Annandale—and I was there
To flourish, to find words, and to attend:
Liar, physician, hypocrite, and friend,
I watched him; and the sight was not so fair
As one or two that I have seen elsewhere:
An apparatus not for me to mend—
A wreck, with hell between him and the end,
Remained of Annandale; and I was there.

“I knew the ruin as I knew the man;
So put the two together, if you can,
Remembering the worst you know of me.
Now view yourself as I was, on the spot—
With a slight kind of engine. Do you see?
Like this … You wouldn’t hang me? I thought not.”


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Read poems about / on: together, friend, remember



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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