The Poetry Corner

Sonnet

By Gilbert Keith Chesterton

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.