Edwin Arlington Robinson

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

Dear Friends - Poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson

Dear Friends, reproach me not for what I do,
Nor counsel me, nor pity me; nor say
That I am wearing half my life away
For bubble-work that only fools pursue.
And if my bubbles be too small for you,
Blow bigger then your own: the games we play
To fill the frittered minutes of a day,
Good glasses are to read the spirit through.

And whoso reads may get him some shrewd skill;
And some unprofitable scorn resign,
To praise the very thing that he deplores;
So, friends (dear friends), remember, if you will,
The shame I win for singing is all mine,
The gold I miss for dreaming is all yours.


Comments about Dear Friends by Edwin Arlington Robinson

  • Phanice Wamukota (7/5/2015 4:05:00 AM)


    haha, I pray you win on the gold though, as much as you may start shamefully. Your dreams are valid. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: remember, work, life, friend, dream



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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