By her husband in Sixteen-Two-Three.
Years have passed since the time of that dastardly crime,
But the victim's intangible shade
Can be seen to this day, so the villagers say,
In diaphanous garments arrayed.
In the gloom of the room where she met with her doom
She's appearing once nightly, it seems,
And the listener quails as lugubrious wails
Are succeeded by agonised screams.
But the trivial flaws I have mentioned need cause