Edwin Arlington Robinson

I cannot find my way: there is no star In all the shrouded heavens anywhere;
And there is not a whisper in the air Of any living voice but one so far That I can hear it only as a bar Of lost, imperial music, played when fair And angel fingers...

They are all gone away, The House is shut and still, There is nothing more to say
Through broken walls and gray The winds blow bleak and shrill: They are all gone away
Nor is there one to-day To speak them good or ill: There is nothing m...

I We thrill too strangely at the master's touch; We shrink too sadly from the larger self Which for its own completeness agitates And undetermines us; we do not feel — We dare not feel it yet — the splendid shame Of uncreated failure; we forget, T...

Go to the western gate,
Luke Havergal,
There where the vines cling crimson on the wall,
And in the twilight wait for what will come

Blessed with a joy that only she Of all alive shall ever know, She wears a proud humility For what it was that willed it so - That her degree should be so great Among the favoured of the Lord That she may scarcely bear the weight Of her bewilderin...

There is a drear and lonely tract of hell From all the common gloom removed afar: A flat, sad land it is, where shadows are, Whose lorn estate my verse may never tell
I walked among them and I knew them well: Men I had slandered on life's lit...

II doubt if ten men in all Tilbury Town Had ever shaken hands with Captain Craig, Or called him by his name, or looked at him So curiously, or so concernedly, As they had looked at ashes; but a few—Say five or six of us—had found somehow The spark...