Changes: Festival

Revision as of 03:10, 3 October 2018

Festival
by H. P. Lovecraft

Story copied from the Wikisource.

There is snow on the ground,
  And the valleys are cold,
And a midnight profound
Blackly squats o'er the wold;
But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of
  feastings unhallowed and old.

There is death in the clouds,
  There is fear in the night,
For the dead in their shrouds
  Hail the sun's turning flight.
And chant wild in the woods as they dance
  round a Yule-altar fungous and white.

To no gale of Earth's kind
  Sways the forest of oak,
Where the thick boughs entwined
  By mad mistletoes choke,
For these pow'rs are the pow'rs of the dark,
  from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.

And mayst thou to such deeds
  Be an abbot and priest,
Singing cannibal greeds
  At each devil-wrought feast,
And to all the incredulous world
  shewing dimly the sign of the beast.

Festival is currently in the Public Domain. This text can now be legally distributed as the work was published before 1923 and the author died in 1937 therefore the 70 year extension has expired.

@@ Line 3: / Line 3: @@
 Story copied from the [http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Festival Wikisource].
-<span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>Notice:</u> This is a Lovecraft's Poetry.</span>
 ----
+<poem>
-<p>There is snow on the ground,<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;And the valleys are cold,<br />And a midnight profound<br />&nbsp;Blackly squats o'er the wold;<br />But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;feastings unhallowed and old.<br /></p><p>There is death in the clouds,<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;There is fear in the night,<br />For the dead in their shrouds<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;Hail the sun's turning flight.<br />And chant wild in the woods as they dance<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;round a Yule-altar fungous and white.<br /></p><p>To no gale of Earth's kind<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;Sways the forest of oak,<br />Where the thick boughs entwined<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;By mad mistletoes choke,<br />For these pow'rs are the pow'rs of the dark,<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.<br /></p><p>And mayst thou to such deeds<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;Be an abbot and priest,<br />Singing cannibal greeds<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;At each devil-wrought feast,<br />And to all the incredulous world<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;shewing dimly the sign of the beast.</p>
+There is snow on the ground,
+  And the valleys are cold,
+And a midnight profound
+ Blackly squats o'er the wold;
+But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of
+  feastings unhallowed and old.
+There is death in the clouds,
+  There is fear in the night,
+For the dead in their shrouds
+  Hail the sun's turning flight.
+And chant wild in the woods as they dance
+  round a Yule-altar fungous and white.
+To no gale of Earth's kind
+  Sways the forest of oak,
+Where the thick boughs entwined
+  By mad mistletoes choke,
+For these pow'rs are the pow'rs of the dark,
+  from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.
+And mayst thou to such deeds
+  Be an abbot and priest,
+Singing cannibal greeds
+  At each devil-wrought feast,
+And to all the incredulous world
+  shewing dimly the sign of the beast.
+</poem>
+{{CC0|1937}}
 [[Category:HPL]]
 [[Category:Poetry]]