Page Poem #2: Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley

on

(page155)

 

I tremble

You are worse than death

The murderer had come to mock and taunt me

To comply with his desires

I cried out

Enter!

He could not help my guilt

Every muscle was anguish

Surprised exclamation

He rose and quitted the room with my father

I cried to my heart to raise my spirits

But a prison cannot be the abode of cheerfulness

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