SONNET

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.