Sonnet

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High on the wall that holds Jerusalem
  I saw one stand under the stars like stone.
  And when I perish it shall not be known
  Whether he lived, some strolling son of Shem,
  Or was some great ghost wearing the diadem
  Of Solomon or Saladin on a throne:
  I only know, the features being unshown,
  I did not dare draw near and look on them.

  Did ye not guess ... the diadem might be
  Plaited in stranger style by hands of hate ...
  But when I looked, the wall was desolate
  And the grey starlight powdered tower and tree:
  And vast and vague beyond the Golden Gate
  Heaved Moab of the mountains like a sea.

© Gilbert Keith Chesterton