Page:Collected poems Robinson, Edwin Arlington.djvu/21

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COLLECTED POEMS

A part, for most, unplayable; In fine, one pauses, half afraid To say for certain that he played.
For that, one may as well forego Conviction as to yes or no; Nor can I say just how intense Would then have been the difference To several, who, having striven In vain to get what he was given, Would see the stranger taken on By friends not easy to be won.
Moreover, many a malcontent He soothed and found munificent; His courtesy beguiled and foiled Suspicion that his years were soiled; His mien distinguished any crowd, His credit strengthened when he bowed; And women, young and old, were fond Of looking at the man Flammonde.
There was a woman in our town On whom the fashion was to frown; But while our talk renewed the tinge Of a long-faded scarlet fringe, The man Flammonde saw none of that, And what he saw we wondered at— That none of us, in her distress, Could hide or find our littleness.
There was a boy that all agreed Had shut within him the rare seed Of learning. We could understand,

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