DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Stars, issue 1, June-July 1940

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Stars, issue 1, June-July 1940

Page 3

H.P. Lovercraft's CLOUDS
Of late I climbed a lonely height and watched the moon-streaked clouds in flight. Whose forms fantastic reeled and whirled. Like genii of the spectral world. Thin cirri veiled the silvery dome and wavered like the ocean foam. While shapes of the darker, heavier kind soudded before daemon mind.

Methought the churning vapors took. Now and anon fearsome look, as of amidst the fog and blur, marched figures known and sinister. 

From west to east the things advanced. A mocking train that leaped and danced. Like Baccanals with joined hands in endless files through airy lands. 

Aerial mutterings, dimly heard. The comfort of my spirit stirred with hideous thoughts, that bade me screen. My sight from the portentous scene.

"Yon fleeing mists," the murmurs said.
"Are ghost of hopes denied and dead."
(Spaceways, February '39). 

Clark Ashon Smith's QUEST
All beneath a wintering sky 
follow the wastrel butterfly; 
with vermillion leaf or bronze-
Tatters gorgeous gonfalons-
with the winds of that always hold 
echo of the clarions lost and old, 
we must hasten, hasten on.
Toward the azure world withdrawn, we must wander, wander so.
Where the popular's pallid leaves
drift among the gathered sheaves
in the harvest none shall glean; 
where the twisted willows lean.
In their strange, tormented woe,
seeing on the streamlet's flow.
Half fragile leaves depart; 
where the secret pines at heart.
High funereal, vesper tine,
guard eternal sorrows green;-
We shall follow, we shall find, 
Haply, ere the light is blind.
The moulded place where Beauty lay,
moon-beheld until the day.
In the woven windlestrae; 
or the pool of tourmaline.
Rimmed with golden reeds, that was
in the dawn of tiring-glass
for the underlaying mien.

Ever wander, wander so,
Where the running roses go; 
All beneath a wintering sky,
follow the wastrel butterfly
(Ebony and Crystal, 1922)

THE EXILE

Against my hear your heart is closed; you bid me go:
What ways are left in all the world for Love to know?
Desolate oceans, and the light of lonely plains. 
Dead moons that wander in the wastes of ice and snow--

These, these I fain would see, and find the splendid born 
of sunset, or brazen deserts of the morn.
That I might lose this over-aching loneliness 
in the vaster solitude; and love be less forlorn.

Faring to seek with alien sun and alien star
The strange, the veiled horizons infinite and far; 
Spaces of fire and night, the skies of steel and gold.
Spaces of fire and night, the skies of steel and gold,
or sunset-haunted seas where foamless islands are.
(C.A. Smith in "Ebony and Crystal", 1922).

Saving...

H.P. Lovercraft's CLOUDS Of late I climbed a lonely height and watched the moon-streaked clouds in flight. Whose forms fantastic reeled and whirled. Like genii of the spectral world. Thin cirri veiled the silvery dome and wavered like the ocean foam. While shapes of the darker, heavier kind soudded before daemon mind. Methought the churning vapors took. Now and anon fearsome look, as of amidst the fog and blur, marched figures known and sinister. From west to east the things advanced. A mocking train that leaped and danced. Like Baccanals with joined hands in endless files through airy lands. Aerial mutterings, dimly heard. The comfort of my spirit stirred with hideous thoughts, that bade me screen. My sight from the portentous scene. "Yon fleeing mists," the murmurs said. "Are ghost of hopes denied and dead." (Spaceways, February '39). Clark Ashon Smith's QUEST All beneath a wintering sky follow the wastrel butterfly; with vermillion leaf or bronze- Tatters gorgeous gonfalons- with the winds of that always hold echo of the clarions lost and old, we must hasten, hasten on. Toward the azure world withdrawn, we must wander, wander so. Where the popular's pallid leaves drift among the gathered sheaves in the harvest none shall glean; where the twisted willows lean. In their strange, tormented woe, seeing on the streamlet's flow. Half fragile leaves depart; where the secret pines at heart. High funereal, vesper tine, guard eternal sorrows green;- We shall follow, we shall find, Haply, ere the light is blind. The moulded place where Beauty lay, moon-beheld until the day. In the woven windlestrae; or the pool of tourmaline. Rimmed with golden reeds, that was in the dawn of tiring-glass for the underlaying mien. Ever wander, wander so, Where the running roses go; All beneath a wintering sky, follow the wastrel butterfly (Ebony and Crystal, 1922) THE EXILE Against my hear your heart is closed; you bid me go: What ways are left in all the world for Love to know? Desolate oceans, and the light of lonely plains. Dead moons that wander in the wastes of ice and snow-- These, these I fain would see, and find the splendid born of sunset, or brazen deserts of the morn. That I might lose this over-aching loneliness in the vaster solitude; and love be less forlorn. Faring to seek with alien sun and alien star The strange, the veiled horizons infinite and far; Spaces of fire and night, the skies of steel and gold. Spaces of fire and night, the skies of steel and gold, or sunset-haunted seas where foamless islands are. (C.A. Smith in "Ebony and Crystal", 1922).