Pilgrimage of poems: Schooled in every grace

For today’s National Poetry Month poem, I’m giving you “Richard Cory”, by E.A. Robinson. It dates from around the turn of the last century.

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.

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.

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.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,

And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;

And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,

Went home and put a bullet through his head.

I’m not particularly a fan of Robinson, but you have to read him in any American lit class. And it does appeal to you when you're young, because of the tone of weltschmerz and the irony.  

The thing about this poem is that I came to read it after hearing Simon and Garfunkel’s adaptation, so I’ll give you that, too, and let you decide which you like better. 

Listening to this again, I detect a lot more sneering in the tone, which probably appealed to me as a teen. Now I just find it a bit excessive. Well, everything except the bullet in the head; that part's okay.