Behold the grave of a wicked man Poem

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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