Home > Work > Fungi from Yuggoth and Other Poems
1 " I saw the body spread on that dank stone,And knew those things which feasted were not men;I knew this strange, grey world was not my own,But Yuggoth, past the starry voids—and thenThe body shrieked at me with a dead cry,And all too late I knew that it was I! "
― H.P. Lovecraft , Fungi from Yuggoth and Other Poems
2 " I saw it from that hidden, silent placeWhere the old wood half shuts the meadow in.It shone through all the sunset's glories - thinAt first, but with a slowly brightening face.Night came, and that lone beacon, amber-hued,Beat on my sight as never it did of old;The evening star - but grown a thousandfoldMore haunting in this hush and solitude.It traced strange pictures on the quivering air - Half-memories that had always filled my eyes - Vast towers and gardens; curious seas and skiesOf some dim life - I never could tell where.But I knew that through the cosmic domeThose rays were calling from my far, lost home. "
3 " His solid flesh had never been away, For each dawn found him in his usual place, But every night his spirit loved to race Through gulfs and worlds remote from common day. He had seen Yaddith, yet retained his mind, And come back safely from the Ghooric zone, When one still night across curved space was thrown That beckoning piping from the voids behind. He waked that morning as an older man, And nothing since has looked the same to him. Objects around float nebulous and dim—False, phantom trifles of some vaster plan. His folk and friends are now an alien throng To which he struggles vainly to belong. "
4 " John Whately lived about a mile from town,Up where the hills began to huddle thick;We never thought his wits were very quick,Seeing the way he let his farm run down.He used to waste his time on some queer booksHe'd found around the attic of his place,Till funny lines got creased into his face,And folks all said they didn't like his looks.When he began those night-howls we declaredHe'd better be locked up away from harm,So three men from the Aylesbury town farmWent for him - but came back alone and scared.They'd found him talking to two crouching thingsThat at their step flew off on great black wings. "
5 " There were great steppes, and rocky table-landsStretching half-limitless in starlit night,With alien campfires shedding feeble lightOn beasts with tinkling bells, in shaggy bands.Far to the south the plain sloped low and wideTo a dark zigzag line of wall that layLike a huge python of some primal dayWhich endless time had chilled and petrified.I shivered oddly in the cold, thin air,And wondered where I was and how I came,When a cloaked form against a campfire's glareRose and approached, and called me by my name.Staring at that dead face beneath the hood,I ceased to hope - because I understood.- A Memory "
