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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