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How Annandale Went Out

“They called it Annandale—and I was there  To flourish, to find words, and to attend:  Liar, physician, hypocrite, and friend,  I watched him; and the sight was not so fair  As one or two that I have seen elsewhere:

An apparatus not for me to mend—  A wreck, with hell between him and the end,  Remained of Annandale; and I was there.    “I knew the ruin as I knew the man;  So put the two together, if you can,

Remembering the worst you know of me.  Now view yourself as I was, on the spot—  With a slight kind of engine.

Do you see?  Like this … You wouldn’t hang me?

I thought not.”

Edwin Arlington Robinson (December 22, 1869 – April 6, 1935) was an American poet. Robinson won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry on three occasions
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