Fungi from Yuggoth - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 27

XXVII. The Elder Pharos

From Leng, where rocky peaks climb bleak and bareUnder cold stars obscure to human sight,There shoots at dusk a single beam of lightWhose far blue rays make shepherds whine in prayer.They say (though none has been there) that it comesOut of a pharos in a tower of stone,Where the last Elder One lives on alone,Talking to Chaos with the beat of drums.The Thing, they whisper, wears a silken maskOf yellow, whose queer folds appear to hideA face not of this earth, though none dares askJust what those features are, which bulge inside.Many, in man's first youth, sought out that glow,But what they found, no one will ever know.