When you hear the banshee's shrill cry
A person, high-born, will die
A murder, quite often
Is what fills the coffin
Then under the turf he will lie.
When you hear the banshee's shrill cry
I hope that this poem will please you,
It is meant, just a little, to tease you,
Please have no fear,
If a goblin is near,
It probably just wants to squeeze you.