THE MESSENGER
The
thing, he said, would come in the night at three
From
the old churchyard on the hill below;
But
crouching by an oak fire's wholesome glow,
I
tried to tell myself it could not be.
Surely,
I mused, it was pleasantry
Devised
by one who did not truly know
The
Elder Sign, bequeathed from long ago,
That
sets the fumbling forms of darkness free.
He
had not meant it - no - but still I lit
Another
lamp as starry Leo climbed
Out
of the Seekonk, and a steeple chimed
Three
- and the firelight faded, bit by bit.
Then
at the door that cautious rattling came -
And
the mad truth devoured me like a flame!
Howard Phillips Lovecraft.
