 | Collected poems of Edwin Arlington Robinson |  |
EN PASSANT
I should have glanced and passed him, naturally,
But his designs and mine were opposite;
He spoke, and having temporized a bit,
He said that he was going to the sea:
“I've watched on highways for so long,” said he,
“That I'll go down there to be sure of it.”
And all at once his famished eyes were lit
With a wrong light—or so it was to me.
But his designs and mine were opposite;
He spoke, and having temporized a bit,
He said that he was going to the sea:
“I've watched on highways for so long,” said he,
“That I'll go down there to be sure of it.”
And all at once his famished eyes were lit
With a wrong light—or so it was to me.
That evening there was talk along the shore
Of one who shot a stranger, saying first:
“You should have come when called. This afternoon
A gentleman unknown to me before,
With deference always due to souls accurst,
Came out of his own grave—and not too soon.”
Of one who shot a stranger, saying first:
“You should have come when called. This afternoon
A gentleman unknown to me before,
887
Came out of his own grave—and not too soon.”
| Collected poems of Edwin Arlington Robinson | |