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THE KINGDOM OF SHADOWS
Often, beneath some fervid moon,With splendid spells I vainly striveDead loves imperial to revive,And speak a heart-remembered rune:—
But, ah, the lovely phantoms fail,The faces fade to mist and light,The vermeil lips of my delightAre dim, the eyes are ashen-pale.
A crownless king who reigns alone,I live within this ashen land,Where winds rebuild from wandering sandMy columns and my crumbled throne.
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