* * *
Behold, the grave of a wicked man, And near it, a stern spirit. There came a drooping maid with violets, But the spirit grasped her arm. ”No flowers for him,” he said. The maid wept: ”Ah, I loved him.” But the spirit, grim and frowning: ”No flowers for him.” Now, this is it -- If the spirit was just, Why did the maid weep?
Stephen Crane’s other poems: