Page:Weird Tales Volume 13 Number 3 (1929-03).djvu/96
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Weird Tales
passes from the unknown dimension where it is and creates a new form of cell life in our dimension. No one knows that such new cell life does exist in our dimension. Ah, but I have seen its manifestations. I have talked with them. In my room at night I have talked with the Doels. And in dreams I have seen their maker. I have stood on the dim shore beyond time and matter and seen it. It moves through strange curves and outrageous angles. Some day I shall travel in time and meet it face to face.
Ballade of Wandering Ghosts
By HANNA BAIRD CAMPBELL
Have you heard the story the old wives tell,
When winds in the turret sob and groan,
And the bloated moon casts an evil spell
On the hearts of men when the day has flown?
When shadows out of the void are blown,
And the reeling stars grow sick and pale,
When phantoms meet and their sins condone—
Have you heard them whisper the evil tale?
When winds in the turret sob and groan,
And the bloated moon casts an evil spell
On the hearts of men when the day has flown?
When shadows out of the void are blown,
And the reeling stars grow sick and pale,
When phantoms meet and their sins condone—
Have you heard them whisper the evil tale?
They mumble and mouth of a loathsome dell,
And a stagnant pool, with dead leaves strown,
Where vapors, foul with the stench of hell,
Strike the chill of death through blood and bone;
And above the pool on a slimy stone,
Wrapped in a luminous mist-gray veil,
Sits the ghost of the self-slain Angelone—
Have you heard them whisper the evil tale?
And a stagnant pool, with dead leaves strown,
Where vapors, foul with the stench of hell,
Strike the chill of death through blood and bone;
And above the pool on a slimy stone,
Wrapped in a luminous mist-gray veil,
Sits the ghost of the self-slain Angelone—
Have you heard them whisper the evil tale?
They swear, at the stroke of the midnight bell,
Betrayed by her lover, to rest unknown,
Her eery songs on the night-winds swell
As she hushes her unborn babe's faint moan.
And the old wives clack in an undertone,
And drown their fears in mugs of ale,
While Love looks down from a rotting throne—
Have you heard them whisper the evil tale?
Betrayed by her lover, to rest unknown,
Her eery songs on the night-winds swell
As she hushes her unborn babe's faint moan.
And the old wives clack in an undertone,
And drown their fears in mugs of ale,
While Love looks down from a rotting throne—
Have you heard them whisper the evil tale?
ENVOI
Ah, ravished heart, can man atone,
Or prayers, or penance, or tears avail?
The ghastly harvest is reaped as sown—
Have you heard them whisper the evil tale?
Ah, ravished heart, can man atone,
Or prayers, or penance, or tears avail?
The ghastly harvest is reaped as sown—
Have you heard them whisper the evil tale?