- 17 (Fungi from Yuggoth by Howard Phillips Lovecraft)
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XVII. A Memory
There were great steppes, and rocky table-lands
Stretching half-limitless in starlit night,
With alien campfires shedding feeble light
On beasts with tinkling bells, in shaggy bands.
Far to the south the plain sloped low and wide
To a dark zigzag line of wall that lay
Like a huge python of some primal day
Which endless time had chilled and petrified.
I shivered oddly in the cold, thin air,
And wondered where I was and how I came,
When a cloaked form against a campfires glare
Rose and approached, and called me by my name.
Staring at that dead face beneath the hood,
I ceased to hopebecause I understood.
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