Dear Friends, reproach me not for what I do,
Nor counsel me, nor pity me; nor say
That I am wearing half my life away
For bubble-work that only fools pursue.
And if my bubbles be too small for you,
Blow bigger then your own: the games we play
To fill the frittered minutes of a day,
Good glasses are to read the spirit through.

And whoso reads may get him some shrewd skill;
And some unprofitable scorn resign,
To praise the very thing that he deplores;
So, friends (dear friends), remember, if you will,
The shame I win for singing is all mine,
The gold I miss for dreaming is all yours.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Edwin Arlington Robinson's poem Dear Friends

1 Comment

  1. Angela says:

    I love this poem…it is pretty much my favorite poem by Robinson…and one of my favorites, ever. As a struggling poet myself, I completely connect with Robinson’s passion for his “bubble work”. I hope everyone can connect with this poem the way that I have.

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