Behold the grave of a wicked man | Poem by Stephen Crane
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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?
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Stephen Crane – Poet | Academy of American Poets
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