A shovel of his ashes took
From the hearth’s obscurest nook,
Muttering mysteries as she went.
Helen and Henry knew that Granny
Was as much afraid of Ghosts as any,
And so they followed hard—
But Helen clung to her brother’s arm,
And her own spasm made her shake.
Read all of Percy Bysshe Shelley's poems · About Percy Bysshe Shelley
More by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Write poetry? Submit your poem to Poetry Catalog