I have always thought Edwin Arlington Robinson was a master at his craft. It isn’t just me that thought this of course. The man won three Pulitzer prizes for his works, but none has ever resonated with me more than Richard Cory. This poem shook me to the core the first time I read it.
In this poem a man’s life is distilled into sixteen lines with clinical precision. Robinson paints a vibrant yet poignant image throughout his four, precisely worded quatrains, hitting us with a sledgehammer in the fourth and final one. With the current environment being what it is, I wonder how many Richard Corys are walking around out there just waiting for a "calm summer night."