Book

I have ascended to the topmost spaces and dragged the cars of the devildare gods from their courses; They saw […]

I am the Spectre at the feasts of the strong men and sneer at their brag. I listen where the

Up from the nether world in unending procession, Like the lurid mists at the dawn-time, Like the black wraiths that

There he lies, his pale face fitfully waving a truce to Old Care, Life flowing out from a million invisible rents

My soul is a tarn as black and motionless as the night above in which whirl forever and ever the

Framed in ebon memories her picture hangs there upon the walls of my brain. ’Tis not the face I put

Ever-changing, ever-vanishing, an evocation from out the Mist, tottering forever to a doom that is never pronounced, I am the

I am the Watcher, and me nothing eludes. I live behind the mask of things, My breath is world-wither, and

I am an eavesdropper, a peeper, a cosmic footpad; With my ear at the keyhole of Eternity I report what