from The Ballad of Reading Gaol by Oscar Wilde

VI

In Reading gaol by Reading town

There is a pit of shame.

And in it lies a wretched man

Eaten by teeth of flame,

In burning winding-sheet he lies,

And his grave has got no name.

And there, till Christ call forth the dead,

In silence let him lie:

No need to waste the foolish tear,

Or heave the windy sigh:

The man had killed the thing he loved,

And so he had to die.

All men kill the thing they love,

By all let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some do it with a flattering word,

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man does it with a sword!