Edwin Arlington Robinson

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

Edwin Arlington Robinson Poems

41. The Gift Of God 1/3/2003
42. Vickery's Mountain 1/3/2003
43. The Clinging Vine 1/3/2003
44. Tact 1/3/2003
45. The Voice Of Age 1/3/2003
46. Doctor Of Billiards 1/3/2003
47. Bon Voyage 1/3/2003
48. Old Trails 1/3/2003
49. The Wise Brothers 1/3/2003
50. Many Are Called 1/3/2003
51. Caput Mortuum 1/3/2003
52. The Tavern 1/3/2003
53. Boston 1/3/2003
54. The Growth Of Lorraine 1/3/2003
55. Souvenir 1/3/2003
56. The False Gods 1/3/2003
57. For Ariva 1/3/2003
58. Vain Gratuities 1/3/2003
59. The White Lights 1/3/2003
60. John Evereldown 1/3/2003
61. The Valley Of The Shadow 1/3/2003
62. Charles Carville's Eyes 1/3/2003
63. The Wandering Jew 1/3/2003
64. Modernities 1/3/2003
65. Cortège 1/3/2003
66. The Three Taverns 1/3/2003
67. The Town Down By The River 1/3/2003
68. London Bridge 1/3/2003
69. Flammonde 1/3/2003
70. Two Men 1/3/2003
71. Variations Of Greek Themes 1/3/2003
72. The Tree In Pamela's Garden 1/3/2003
73. The World 1/3/2003
74. The Long Race 1/3/2003
75. Siege Perilous 1/3/2003
76. Hillcrest 1/3/2003
77. Calverly's 1/3/2003
78. Two Sonnets 1/3/2003
79. Bokardo 1/3/2003
80. Uncle Ananias 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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