The Pity Of The Leaves
Edwin Arlington Robinson
Vengeful across the cold November moors, Loud with ancestral shame there came the bleak Sad wind that shrieked, and answered with a shriek, Reverberant through lonely corridors. The old man heard it; and he heard, perforce, Words out of lips that were no more to speak— Words of the past that shook the old man’s cheek Like dead, remembered footsteps on old floors. And then there were the leaves that plagued him so! The brown, thin leaves that on the stones outside Skipped with a freezing whisper. Now and then They stopped, and stayed there—just to let him know How dead they were; but if the old man cried, They fluttered off like withered souls of men.
Next 10 Poems
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Poor Relation
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Rat
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Return Of Morgan And Fingal
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Revealer
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Sage
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Story Of The Ashes And The Flame
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Sunken Crown
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Tavern
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Three Taverns
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Torrent
Previous 10 Poems
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Pilot
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Old Story
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Old King's New Jester
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Night Before
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The New Tenants
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Miracle
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Mill
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Master
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Man Against The Sky
- Edwin Arlington Robinson : The Long Race