Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

After the Martyrdom

THEY threw a stone, you threw a stone,

I threw a stone that day.

Although their sharpness bruised his flesh

He had no word to say.

But for the moan he did not make

To-day I make my moan;

And for the stone I threw at him

My heart must bear a stone.