IX

High in the ebon skies on scaly wings

Dread batlike beasts soar past those towers gray

To peer in greedy longing at the things

Which sprawl in every twisted passageway.

And when their gruesome flight a shadow brings

The dwellers lift dim eyes above the clay.

But lidded bulbs close heavily once more;

They wait-for Sotho to unlatch the door!

X

Now, through the veil of troubled visions deep

Is draped to blind me to the secret ways

Leading through blackness to the realm of sleep

That haunts me all my jumbled nights and days,

I feel the dim path that will let me keep

That rendezvous in Yith where Sotho plays.

At last I see a glowing turret shine,

And I am coming, for the key is mine!

* * * * *

The Fantasy Fan , Volume 2, Number 1, September 1934 The Fan's Own Magazine · 第 16 / 26 题