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Edwin Arlington Robinson - Neighbors

As often as we thought of her, 
We thought of a gray life 
That made a quaint economist 
Of a wolf-haunted wife; 
We made the best of all she bore 
That was not ours to bear, 
And honored her for wearing things 
That were not things to wear.

There was a distance in her look 
That made us look again; 
And if she smiled, we might believe 
That we had looked in vain. 
Rarely she came inside our doors, 
And had not long to stay; 
And when she left, it seemed somehow 
That she was far away.

At last, when we had all forgot 
That all is here to change, 
A shadow on the commonplace 
Was for a moment strange. 
Yet there was nothing for suprise, 
Nor much that need be told: 
Love, with its gift of pain, had given 
More than one heart could hold. 

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Neighbors - Comments and Information

Poet: Edwin Arlington Robinson
Poem: Neighbors
Poem of the Day: Sep 16 2009
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