| Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him; He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean favored imperially slim. And he was always quietly arrayed, And he was always human when he talked; But still fluttered pulses when he said, "Good Morning", and he glittered while he walked. And he was rich - yes, richer than a king - And admirably schooled in every grace: In fine, we thought 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 meat, and cursed the bread; And Richard Cory, one calm summer night, Went home and put a bullet through his head. |
| Edward Arlington Robinson |