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Archibald's Example

Rating: 2.7

Old Archibald, in his eternal chair,
Where trespassers, whatever their degree,
Were soon frowned out again, was looking off
Across the clover when he said to me:

“My green hill yonder, where the sun goes down
Without a scratch, was once inhabited
By trees that injured him—an evil trash
That made a cage, and held him while he bled.

“Gone fifty years, I see them as they were
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Brian Purdy 11 January 2012

'...and he twinkled in his chair...' Good gawd! Only Robinson could make a statement like that work as chillingly as it does in this poem. No one in American literature paints the portrait of the half-crazed, semi-fantastic-to-the-point-of-riveting fascination 'outsider' half so well as he.

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