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 75

January, 1935, THE FANTASY FAN    75

Was this your plan foul spawn of cosmic mire,
To freeze my soul to stone and icy fire,
To carve me in the moon that all mankind
May know its race is futile, weak and blind--
A horror-blasted statue in the sky,
That does not live and nevermore can die?

FRAGMENT

by Robert Nelson

With the red bewitchment of the moon canines collect
And the feast and howl o'er carrion and orts and bones
In green and putrid grots that echo shrill sea-moans;
And huge and hoary plantigrades on crags most high,
Hearing the maddened carnal ravings of the hounds,
Huddle together on the topmost frozen mounds
To hurl immense boulders on them until all die.

THE ELDER THING

by William Lumley

Oh, have you seen the Elder Thing
That creeps upon the hill--
A fearsome Thing with lurid eyes
At night when all is still;
A horror wrought of withered moss
And foul promordial slime,
Wherein there fester monstrously
The evils of all time?

With phosphorescent glow like naught
That Nature might devise,
All the fell ancient lore of earth
Gleams hellish in its eyes.
As night by night this Elder Thing
Upon the hill doth creep,
Awakened by men's blasphemies
From out its age-long sleep.

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January, 1935, THE FANTASY FAN 75 Was this your plan foul spawn of cosmic mire, To freeze my soul to stone and icy fire, To carve me in the moon that all mankind May know its race is futile, weak and blind-- A horror-blasted statue in the sky, That does not live and nevermore can die? FRAGMENT by Robert Nelson With the red bewitchment of the moon canines collect And the feast and howl o'er carrion and orts and bones In green and putrid grots that echo shrill sea-moans; And huge and hoary plantigrades on crags most high, Hearing the maddened carnal ravings of the hounds, Huddle together on the topmost frozen mounds To hurl immense boulders on them until all die. THE ELDER THING by William Lumley Oh, have you seen the Elder Thing That creeps upon the hill-- A fearsome Thing with lurid eyes At night when all is still; A horror wrought of withered moss And foul promordial slime, Wherein there fester monstrously The evils of all time? With phosphorescent glow like naught That Nature might devise, All the fell ancient lore of earth Gleams hellish in its eyes. As night by night this Elder Thing Upon the hill doth creep, Awakened by men's blasphemies From out its age-long sleep.