Edwin Arlington Robinson

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

Edwin Arlington Robinson Poems

161. Ballad Of A Ship 1/3/2003
162. Ballad Of Broken Flutes 1/3/2003
163. Eros Turannos 1/3/2003
164. Reuben Bright 1/3/2003
165. Ballad Of Dead Friends 1/3/2003
166. Afterthoughts 1/3/2003
167. Amaryllis 1/3/2003
168. The House On The Hill 1/3/2003
169. Ballad By The Fire 1/3/2003
170. Miniver Cheevy 1/3/2003
171. Another Dark Lady 1/3/2003
172. Mr. Flood's Party 1/3/2003
173. An Old Story 1/3/2003
174. A Happy Man 1/3/2003
175. Richard Cory 12/31/2002

Comments about Edwin Arlington Robinson

  • Michael Walker Michael Walker (2/11/2020 5:47:00 PM)

    Some say that his poetry is old-fashioned, slightly out of date.
    However, I find elegance, craftsmanship and psychological depth in
    Robinson's best poems. To me, his writing endures.

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  • richard borda (7/23/2018 12:35:00 PM)

    Silence

    If silence is to avoid the restless crowd
    but go todepths where mystery abounds
    then return with kerygma loud
    tis not silence but heavenly sounds

    1 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • 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.

    31 person liked.
    36 person did not like.
Best Poem of Edwin Arlington Robinson

A Happy Man

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.

Read the full of A Happy Man

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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