Vickery's Mountain
Blue in the west the mountain stands,
And through the long twilight
Vickery sits with folded hands,
And Vickery’s eyes are bright.
Bright, for he knows what no man else
On earth as yet may know:
There’s a golden word that he never tells,
And a gift that he will not show.
He dreams of honor and wealth and fame,
He smiles, and well he may;
For to Vickery once a sick man came
Who did not go away.
The day before the day to be,
“Vickery,” said the guest,
“You know as you live what’s left of me—
And you shall know the rest.
“You know as you live that I have come
To this we call the end.
No doubt you have found me troublesome,
But you’ve also found a friend;
“For we shall give and you shall take
The gold that is in view;
The mountain there and I shall make
A golden man of you.
“And you shall leave a friend behind
Who neither frets nor feels;
And you shall move among your kind
With hundreds at your heels.
“Now this that I have written here
Tells all that need be told;
So, Vickery, take the way that’s clear.
And be a man of gold.”
Vickery turned his eyes again
To the far mountain-side,
And wept a tear for worthy men
Defeated and defied.
Since then a crafty score of years
Have come, and they have gone;
But Vickery counts no lost arrears:
He lingers and lives on.
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poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Added by Poetry Lover
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