Lionel Pigot Johnson quotes

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Vanquished in life, his death
By beauty made amends:
The passing of his breath
Won his defeated ends.
Sombre and rich, the skies;
Great glooms, and starry plains.
Alone he rides, alone,
The fair and fatal king:
Dark night is all his own,
That strange and solemn thing.
The saddest of all kings
Crowned, and again discrowned.
Yet, when the city sleeps;
When all the cries are still:
The stars and heavenly deeps
Work out a perfect will.
Because of thee, the land of dreams
Becomes a gathering place of fears:
Dark Angel, with thine aching lust
To rid the world of penitence:
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