/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.824600]

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.

[Anonymous No.824654]

Holy fuck I hate this fucking poem. Every single year since 8th grade my English teachers have circle jerked over this shit and made us relate it to the themes of different shit.

[Anonymous No.824703]

I like the song named "Richard Cory" by Art & Stephen.

[Anonymous No.824708]

>>824703
>Stephen

typo, I meant Paul

[Anonymous No.824709]

It's too deep for me brah

[Anonymous No.824710]

>>824708
I think you mean Hall and Oates

[Anonymous No.824713]

Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

-Edgar Allen Poe

[Anonymous No.824725]

>>824713
awesome

>>824600
bullshit. don't tell me "oh, the rich are just like everyone else, money doesn't make you happy so be content to be a peasant". fuck richard cory, he had the resources to get whatever kinds of help he needed. poor people just as likely to be suicidal and depressed, if not more so, only they don't have access to doctors and private clinics and what not. the poem reads like it's designed to keep poor people from complaining about the exploitative upper classes.

[Anonymous No.824738]

>>824710

Nope. Pretty sure it was Art & Paul.

Or was it ZZ Top?

[Anonymous No.824749]

>>824710
I thought it was Holland Oates and Peter Gabriel

[Anonymous No.824756]

>>824725
Poor people are perfectly capable of deceiving themselves. There is no need for upper-class intervention.