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Fantasy Commentator, v. 1, issue 9, Winter 1945-1946
Page 208
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208 FANTASY COMMENTATOR Rocket deals with Brenda and Bobbie, who build a rocket in their wood-shed, and travel in it to the Moon. Though noted as "A porterprint Production," its author, publisher and price are conspicuously anonymous, and it has, moreover appeared in two distinct editions: one has two full-page blue and white illustrations, 10pp, and is 24-1/2 x 18-1/2cm in size; the other has five three-clored illustrations, 14pp, and is 10 x 7cm in size. It is to be presumed that this flood of paper-covered booklets will slacken off as the paper-shortage lessens. Doubtless the small size of the editions, restricted region of distribution (greater London) and their fragile nature will put them among the scarcest of science-fiction collectors' items. ---oOo--- The Wind Trail by A. Merritt Over the hills the wild winds are sweeping, Whistling thro' pine and humming o'er lea, High on the rocks the surges are leaping, Shouting the song of the fetterless esea, And it's oh, to be free! Free from the city and free from the striving, Free from the ordered, atomic plan, Free from the faiths and the profitless having, Free from the limitless lockstep of man---- Down with the limitless lockstep of man--- Down with the north wind in Viking sally, Clasping with laughter each wild forest maid, Smiting their green knights, then roaring the rally With conquerors' wassail in dell and in glade, Scattering the red and the gold of the plunder, Vandal's largess to the cowering plain; Leap thro' the clouds to the drums of the thunder, Rush down the fields to the tambours of rain; Then off to the deeps where the storm scud races, Dive far down to the cool green wave Where a sea girl lifts white rams for embraces; Dart with the gulls where the mad breakers rave. Drive on the mist to the cold lily's tower, Besiege her with lances of languorous light, Strip the shy wild rose in her hidden bower, Dream with the poppy thro' the soft purple night--- But free, free, free! Free to leave them or free to love them, Free to orget or free to care, Free as the hawk high circling above them, Free to gather or free to spare. Dervish mist on the meadow whirling, Moonbeams in minuet 'thwart the glen, Roistering stream from the far heights swirling, Wild fire dancing over the fen, Make me one of you! I am as one of you! Make me free!
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208 FANTASY COMMENTATOR Rocket deals with Brenda and Bobbie, who build a rocket in their wood-shed, and travel in it to the Moon. Though noted as "A porterprint Production," its author, publisher and price are conspicuously anonymous, and it has, moreover appeared in two distinct editions: one has two full-page blue and white illustrations, 10pp, and is 24-1/2 x 18-1/2cm in size; the other has five three-clored illustrations, 14pp, and is 10 x 7cm in size. It is to be presumed that this flood of paper-covered booklets will slacken off as the paper-shortage lessens. Doubtless the small size of the editions, restricted region of distribution (greater London) and their fragile nature will put them among the scarcest of science-fiction collectors' items. ---oOo--- The Wind Trail by A. Merritt Over the hills the wild winds are sweeping, Whistling thro' pine and humming o'er lea, High on the rocks the surges are leaping, Shouting the song of the fetterless esea, And it's oh, to be free! Free from the city and free from the striving, Free from the ordered, atomic plan, Free from the faiths and the profitless having, Free from the limitless lockstep of man---- Down with the limitless lockstep of man--- Down with the north wind in Viking sally, Clasping with laughter each wild forest maid, Smiting their green knights, then roaring the rally With conquerors' wassail in dell and in glade, Scattering the red and the gold of the plunder, Vandal's largess to the cowering plain; Leap thro' the clouds to the drums of the thunder, Rush down the fields to the tambours of rain; Then off to the deeps where the storm scud races, Dive far down to the cool green wave Where a sea girl lifts white rams for embraces; Dart with the gulls where the mad breakers rave. Drive on the mist to the cold lily's tower, Besiege her with lances of languorous light, Strip the shy wild rose in her hidden bower, Dream with the poppy thro' the soft purple night--- But free, free, free! Free to leave them or free to love them, Free to orget or free to care, Free as the hawk high circling above them, Free to gather or free to spare. Dervish mist on the meadow whirling, Moonbeams in minuet 'thwart the glen, Roistering stream from the far heights swirling, Wild fire dancing over the fen, Make me one of you! I am as one of you! Make me free!
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