Edwin Arlington Robinson

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

Edwin Arlington Robinson Poems

41. Vickery's Mountain 1/3/2003
42. The Clinging Vine 1/3/2003
43. Tact 1/3/2003
44. The Voice Of Age 1/3/2003
45. Doctor Of Billiards 1/3/2003
46. Bon Voyage 1/3/2003
47. Old Trails 1/3/2003
48. The Wise Brothers 1/3/2003
49. Many Are Called 1/3/2003
50. Caput Mortuum 1/3/2003
51. The Tavern 1/3/2003
52. Boston 1/3/2003
53. The Corridor 1/3/2003
54. The Growth Of Lorraine 1/3/2003
55. The False Gods 1/3/2003
56. Souvenir 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

Comments about Edwin Arlington Robinson

  • Christopher Gozdava (1/11/2012 1:20:00 PM)

    The poem A Happy Man is an example for me of poorly sounding, but a metrically correct poem. One more proof that it is not a form but a final pleasing outcome that makes any art valuable.

    28 person liked.
    30 person did not like.
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

Veteran Sirens

The ghost of Ninon would be sorry now
To laugh at them, were she to see them here,
So brave and so alert for learning how
To fence with reason for another year.

Age offers a far comelier diadem
Than theirs; but anguish has no eye for grace,
When time’s malicious mercy cautions them
To think a while of number and of space.

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