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 ГовардФиллипсЛавкрафт
 THE MESSENGER




   The thing, he said, would come in the night at three
   From 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 pleasantry
   Devised by one who did not truly know
   The Elder Sign, bequeathed from long ago,
   That sets the fumbling forms of darkness free.


   He had not meant it — no — but still I lit
   Another lamp as starry Leo climbed
   Out of the Seekonk, and a steeple chimed
   Three — and the firelight faded, bit by bit.


   Then at the door that cautious rattling came -
   And the mad truth devoured me like a flame!