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Fantasy Fan, v. 1, issue 6, February 1934

Page 87

88     THE FANTASY FAN February, 1934

WINDS

by Richard F. Searight

The North Wind blares, a gelid, ice-born roar,
Down from the artic wastes where sit the ghosts
Of one-eyed Odiu[[?]], bloody-handed Thor,
In frost-bound silence with their warrior hosts.

The East Wind murmers softly through the night
Of dark and noisome things, and evil lore
Old in the days when Atlar rose to might,
And Chaldie magic ruled a world of gore.

The South Wind breathes a pestilential dirge.
It whispers of corruption and the tomb;
Of life in death, and mankind's biting urge
To gain the secrets hidden in Time's womb.

The West Wind keens a warning cry of hate,
As, from the boundless voids of sea and sky,
It sweeps upon a race bowed low by fate,
Yet striving still to gain the heights or die.

THE DWELLER

by William Lumley

Dread and potent broods a Dweller
In an evil twilight space,
Formless as a daemon's shadow,
Void of members and of face.

Heeding not the shaped or human,
Past the reach of time or law--
Nev[[upside down "e"]]r may our minds conceive It
Save as clouds of fright and awe

When It crawls malignly on us,
Lethal mists of leaden grey,
Rising vaguely in the distance,
Veil its hideous bulk away.

And Its mutterings of horror,
Foul with lore of charnel ground,
Lose themselves in troubled thunders
That from far horizons sound.

Saving...

88 THE FANTASY FAN February, 1934 WINDS by Richard F. Searight The North Wind blares, a gelid, ice-born roar, Down from the artic wastes where sit the ghosts Of one-eyed Odiu[[?]], bloody-handed Thor, In frost-bound silence with their warrior hosts. The East Wind murmers softly through the night Of dark and noisome things, and evil lore Old in the days when Atlar rose to might, And Chaldie magic ruled a world of gore. The South Wind breathes a pestilential dirge. It whispers of corruption and the tomb; Of life in death, and mankind's biting urge To gain the secrets hidden in Time's womb. The West Wind keens a warning cry of hate, As, from the boundless voids of sea and sky, It sweeps upon a race bowed low by fate, Yet striving still to gain the heights or die. THE DWELLER by William Lumley Dread and potent broods a Dweller In an evil twilight space, Formless as a daemon's shadow, Void of members and of face. Heeding not the shaped or human, Past the reach of time or law-- Nev[[upside down "e"]]r may our minds conceive It Save as clouds of fright and awe When It crawls malignly on us, Lethal mists of leaden grey, Rising vaguely in the distance, Veil its hideous bulk away. And Its mutterings of horror, Foul with lore of charnel ground, Lose themselves in troubled thunders That from far horizons sound.