Poem Fragment, by Wilfred Owen

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I saw his round mouth's crimson deepen as it fell,

     Like a Sun, in his last deep hour;

Watched the magnificent recession of farewell,

     Clouding, half gleam, half glower,

And a last splendour burn the heavens of his cheek.

     And in his eyes

The cold stars lighting, very old and bleak,

     In different skies.

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