March 12th, 2005

me

Poet's Corner: Richard Cory

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)

I was reminded of this poem, which my mom introduced me to many years ago, when I was researching yesterday's list of ten things. Now that you've read the poem, why not try the Richard Corey [sic] Interactive Adventure? I don't recommend following the link that reads "Click here to see what you look like!" though.