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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=381417" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Pity of the Leaves</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=381417" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Vengeful across the cold November moors, <br>Loud with ancestral shame there came the bleak <br>Sad wind that shrieked, and answered with a shriek, <br>Reverberant through lonely corridors. <br>The old man heard it; and he heard, perforce,<br>Words out of lips that were no more to speak— <br>Words of the past that shook the old man’s cheek <br>Like dead, remembered footsteps on old floors. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=381417" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And then there were the leaves that plagued him so! <br>The brown, thin leaves that on the stones outside<br>Skipped with a freezing whisper. Now and then <br>They stopped, and stayed there—just to let him know <br>How dead they were; but if the old man cried, <br>They fluttered off like withered souls of men.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Edwin+Arlington+Robinson">Edwin Arlington Robinson</a></strong></div>

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