Poetry : Poetry Richard Cory
Poetry : Poetry 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.
Poetry : Poetry 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.
Poetry : Poetry 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.
Poetry : Poetry So on we worked, and waited for the light, And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
Poetry : Poetry And Richard Cory, one calm summer night, Went home and put a bullet through his head.