Foreboding
O linger late, poor yellow whispering leaves! As yet the eves Are golden and the simple moon looks through The clouds and you. O linger yet although the night be blind, And in the wind You wake and lisp and shiver at the stir And sigh of her Whose rimy fingers chill you each and all: And so you fall As dead as hopes or dreams or whispered vows.... O then the boughs That bore your busy multitude shall feel The cold light steal Between them, and the timorous child shall start, Hearing his heart Drubbing affrighted at the frail gates, for lo, The ghostly glow Of the wild moon, caught in the barren arms Of leafless branches loud with night's alarms!
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About this line
"O linger late, poor yellow whispering leaves!..."
Exploring the themes of classic, John Frederick Freeman delivers a powerful performance in "Foreboding"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...