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Richard Cory

Edwin Arlington Robinson (1869-1935)

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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 .