Explore "Percy Bysshe Shelley" by Edgar Lee Masters on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
My father who owned the wagon-shop / And grew rich shoeing horses / Sent me to the University of Montreal.
I learned nothing and returned home, / Roaming the fields with Bert Kessler, / Hunting quail and snipe.
At Thompson's Lake the trigger of my gun / Caught in the side of the boat / And a great hole was shot through my heart.
Over me a fond father erected this marble shaft, / On which stands the figure of a woman / Carved by an Italian artist.
They say the ashes of my namesake / Were scattered near the pyramid of Caius Cestius / Somewhere near Rome.