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- NEMESIS - A poem by H.P. Lovecraft
-
- Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,
- Past the wan-mooned abysses of night,
- I have lived o'er my lives without number,
- I have sounded all things with my sight;
- And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being
- driven to madness with fright.
-
- I have whirled with the earth at the dawning,
- When the sky was a vapourous flame;
- I have seen the dark universe yawning
- Where the black planets roll without aim,
- Where they roll in their horror unheeded, without
- knowledge or lustre or name.
-
- I had drifted o'er seas without ending,
- Under sinister grey-clouded skies
- That many-forked lightning is rending
- That resound with hysterical cries;
- With moans of invisible daemons that out
- of the geen waters rise.
-
- I have plunged like a dear through the arches
- Of the hoary primordial grove,
- Where the oaks feel the presence that marches
- And stalks on where no spirit dares rove,
- And I flee from a thing that surrounds me, and leers
- through dead branches above.
-
- I have stumbled by cave-riddled mountains
- That rise barren and bleak from the plain,
- I have drunk of the frog-foetid fountains
- That ooze down to the marsh and the main;
- And in hot cursed tarns I have seen things I care not
- to gaze on again.
-
- I have scanned the vast ivy-clad palace,
- I have trod its untenanted hall,
- Where the moon rising up from the valleys
- Shows the tapestried things on the wall;
- Strange figures discordantly woven, that I cannot
- endure to recall.
-
- I have peered from the casements in wonder
- At the mouldering meadows around,
- At the many-roofed village laid under
- The curse of a grave-girdled ground;
- And from rows of white urn-carven marble I listen
- intently for sound.
-
- I have hauntged the tombs of the ages,
- I have flown on the pinions of fear
- Where the smoke-belching Erebus rages;
- Where the jokulls loom snow-clad and drear:
- And in realms where the sun of the desert consumes
- what it never can cheer.
-
- I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
- The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
- I was old in those epochs uncounted
- When I, and only I, was vile;
- And Man, yet untainted and happy, dwelt in bliss on
- the far Arctic isle.
-
- Oh, great was the sin of my spirit,
- And great is the reach of its doom;
- Not the pity of Heavan can cheer it,
- Nor can respite be found in the tomb:
- Down the infinite aeons come beating the wings of
- unkmerciful gloom.
-
- Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,
- Past the wan-mooned abysses of night,
- I have lived o'er my lives without number,
- I have sounded all things with my sight;
- And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being
- driven to madness with fright.
-
-