Fungi from Yuggoth - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 8

VIII. The Port

Ten miles from Arkham I had struck the trailThat rides the cliff-edge over Boynton Beach ,And hoped that just at sunset I could reachThe crest that looks on Innsmouth in the vale.Far out at sea was a retreating sail,White as hard years of ancient winds could bleach,But evil with some portent beyond speech,So that I did not wave my hand or hail.Sails out of lnnsmouth! echoing old renownOf long-dead times. But now a too-swift nightIs closing in, and I have reached the heightWhence I so often scan the distant town.The spires and roofs are there – but look! The gloomSinks on dark lanes, as lightless as the tomb!