DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Fantasy Fan, v. 2, issue 5, whole no. 17, January 1935

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Fantasy Fan, v. 2, issue 5, whole no. 17, January 1935

Page 74

74     THE FANTASY FAN, January, 1935

Seed of the tombstone, floating black,
Back to the cellar through that crack.
And beings stare with sightless eyes,
Down black steps where a brother lies.

THE ALIEN

by Natalie H. Wooley

She is like living golden flame.
She knows not whence or why she came
Into this world...and yet at times
I hear her call strange gods by name.

There is no warmth in her embrace,
Of human passions not a trace.She seems remote, a thing attuned
To summonings from outer space.

And on each starry, moonlit night
She gazes long in rapt delight
Toward the skies...while I weep
Lest the message come, and she take flight.

VOICES OF THE NIGHT

by Robert E. Howard

2. Babel

Now in the gloom the pulsing drums repeat,
And all the night is filled with evil sound;
I hear the throbbing of human feet
On marble stairs that silence locks around.

I see black temples loom against the night,
With tentacles like serpents writhed afar,
And waving in a dusky dragon light
Great moths whose wings unholy tapers char.
Red memory on memory, tier on tier,
Builds up a tower, time and space to span;
Through world on world I rise, and spere on sphere,
To star-shot gulfs of lunacy and fear--
Black screaming ages never dreamed by man.

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74 THE FANTASY FAN, January, 1935 Seed of the tombstone, floating black, Back to the cellar through that crack. And beings stare with sightless eyes, Down black steps where a brother lies. THE ALIEN by Natalie H. Wooley She is like living golden flame. She knows not whence or why she came Into this world...and yet at times I hear her call strange gods by name. There is no warmth in her embrace, Of human passions not a trace.She seems remote, a thing attuned To summonings from outer space. And on each starry, moonlit night She gazes long in rapt delight Toward the skies...while I weep Lest the message come, and she take flight. VOICES OF THE NIGHT by Robert E. Howard 2. Babel Now in the gloom the pulsing drums repeat, And all the night is filled with evil sound; I hear the throbbing of human feet On marble stairs that silence locks around. I see black temples loom against the night, With tentacles like serpents writhed afar, And waving in a dusky dragon light Great moths whose wings unholy tapers char. Red memory on memory, tier on tier, Builds up a tower, time and space to span; Through world on world I rise, and spere on sphere, To star-shot gulfs of lunacy and fear-- Black screaming ages never dreamed by man.