Лавкрафт Говард Филипс - The Messenger
poetry Говард Филлипс Лавкрафт THE MESSENGER 1929 en en i_no_k inok.goo@gmail.com Fiction Book Designer, Fiction Book Investigator 28.07.2006 www.lib.ru FBD-TN1MS9JI-JFE2-JGXT-IOBK-O3318LBLV26S 1.0 Говард Филлипс Лавкрафт
THE MESSENGER
The thing, he said, would come in the night at threeFrom 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 pleasantryDevised by one who did not truly knowThe Elder Sign, bequeathed from long ago,That sets the fumbling forms of darkness free.He had not meant it — no — but still I litAnother lamp as starry Leo climbedOut of the Seekonk, and a steeple chimedThree — and the firelight faded, bit by bit.Then at the door that cautious rattling came -And the mad truth devoured me like a flame!
