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 without the meat, and cursed the bread

And Richard Cory, one calm summer night

Went home and put a bullet through his head

Edwin Arlington Robinson , 1869 - 1935*

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