To William Shelley
Thy little footsteps on the sands Of a remote and lonely shore; The twinkling of thine infant hands, Where now the worm will feed no more; Thy mingled look of love and glee When we returned to gaze on thee--
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Thy little footsteps on the sands Of a remote and lonely shore; The twinkling of thine infant hands, Where now the worm will feed no more; Thy mingled look of love and glee When we returned to gaze on thee--
Shelley is speaking to his young son, William, who has died. He fixes on fleeting, physical memories: the sound of small feet on a distant beach, the bright fluttering of baby hands. Then comes a brutal turn.
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