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In the Midnight heaven's burning Through the ethereal deeps afar Once I watch'd with restless yearning An alluring aureate star;…
Howard Phillips Lovecraft (August 20, 1890 – March 15, 1937) was an American author of horror, fantasy, and science fiction, especially the subgenre known as weird fiction. Lovecraft's guiding literary principle was what he termed "cosmicism" or "cosmic horror", the idea that life is incomprehensible to human minds and that the universe is fundamentally alien. Those who genuinely reason, like his protagonists, gamble with sanity. As early as the 1940s, Lovecraft had developed a cult following for his Cthulhu Mythos, a series of loosely interconnected fiction featuring a pantheon of humanity-nullifying entities, as well as the Necronomicon, a fictional grimoire of magical rites and forbidden lore. His works were deeply pessimistic and cynical, challenging the values of the Enlightenment, Romanticism, and Christian humanism. Lovecraft's protagonists usually achieve the mirror-opposite of traditional gnosis and mysticism by momentarily glimpsing the horror of ultimate reality and the abyss. Although Lovecraft's readership was limited during his life, his reputation has grown over the decades, and he is now regarded as one of the most influential horror writers of the 20th century. According to Joyce Carol Oates, Lovecraft — as with Edgar Allan Poe in the 19th century — has exerted "an incalculable influence on succeeding generations of writers of horror fiction". Stephen King called Lovecraft "the twentieth century's greatest practitioner of the classic horror tale.")
Howard Phillips Lovecraft şiirleri
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As when a pigeon, loos'd in realms remote, Takes instant wing, and seeks his native cote, So speed my blessings from a barb'rous clime To thee and Providence at Christmas time!
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As Christmas snows (as yet a poet's trope) Call back one's bygone days of youth and hope, Four metrick lines I send-they're quite enough- Tho' once I fancy'd I could write the stuf…
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The cottage hearth beams warm and bright, The candles gaily glow; The stars emit a kinder light Above the drifted snow.…
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O'er the midnight moorlands crying, Thro' the cypress forests sighing, In the night-wind madly flying, Hellish forms with streaming hair;…
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Haughty Sphinx, whose amber eyes Hold the secrets of the skies, As thou ripplest in thy grace, Round the chairs and chimney-place,…
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How dull the wretch, whose philosophic mind Disdains the pleasures of fantastic kind; Whose prosy thoughts the joys of life exclude, And wreck the solace of the poet's mood!…
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There is snow on the ground, And the valleys are cold, And a midnight profound Blackly squats o'er the wold;…
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I. The Book The place was dark and dusty and half-lost In tangles of old alleys near the quays,…
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May good St. Nick, like as a bird of night, Bring thee rich blessings in his annual flight; Long by thy chimney rest his pond'rous pack, And leave with lessen'd weight upon his bac…
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Once more the ancient feast returns, And the bright hearth domestic burns With Yuletide's added blaze; So, too, may all your joys increase…
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The steeples are white in the wild moonlight, And the trees have a silver glare; Past the chimneys high see the vampires fly, And the harpies of upper air,…
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How sad droop the willows by Zalal's fair side, Where so lately I stray'd with my raven-hair'd bride; Ev'ry light-floating lily, each flow'r on the shore, Folds in sorrow since Lae…
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Si veris magna paratur Fama bonis, et se successu nuda remoto Inspicitur virtus, quicquid laudamus in ullo Majorum, ortuna fuit.…
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Little Tiger, burning bright With a subtle Blakeish light, Tell what visions have their home In those eyes of flame and chrome!…
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