October 15th, 2002

"Richard Cory"

In Grade 12, "Richard Cory" was a poem that haunted me. I'm just happy that, whatever my current troubles, I'm far beyond the point where it could seem like a plausible prediction of my future.

I hated high school, and my time therein, needless to say.


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, The Children Of The Night (1897)
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