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FMS Digest, v. 1, issues 1-5, February - July 1941
v.1:no.2: Page 8
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THE UNKNOWN SEAT We are the only living thing in sight upon this dreadful sea; when we have drifted out of sight what hidden things will dare the light? What undreamed worship will there be? What ghastly spectres will THEY bring? For where the thoughts of men are not, and where no human eye can see, hidden in an uncharted spot what might there be? What might there be? Harold Gottliffe Poem and illustration from FUTURIAN WAR DIGEST, March, 1941 THEY By Donald J. Doughty Condensed from COSMOS, No.3 THEY knew that their world had not long to live, that soon it would be but a faint spark added to the great funeral pyre of their mother-star who was even now smouldering and seemingly preparing for that last terrific outburst of energy, which would be her final solo in that stupendous play of stars and worlds. Theirs was a regretfully bade adieu to this world in a garden, unhappy plaything of a remorseless fate. But even before the first faint signs of the coming outburst, they were far out in space, speeding away from their condemned birthplace. For they had found a new home, a young and verile sun, on whose third planet they would build again their harmonious culture. Did they achieve that aim, and reach that vast family of worlds? Did they again build their wondrous civilization? WE SHOULD KNOW, FOR WE ARE THEY.
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THE UNKNOWN SEAT We are the only living thing in sight upon this dreadful sea; when we have drifted out of sight what hidden things will dare the light? What undreamed worship will there be? What ghastly spectres will THEY bring? For where the thoughts of men are not, and where no human eye can see, hidden in an uncharted spot what might there be? What might there be? Harold Gottliffe Poem and illustration from FUTURIAN WAR DIGEST, March, 1941 THEY By Donald J. Doughty Condensed from COSMOS, No.3 THEY knew that their world had not long to live, that soon it would be but a faint spark added to the great funeral pyre of their mother-star who was even now smouldering and seemingly preparing for that last terrific outburst of energy, which would be her final solo in that stupendous play of stars and worlds. Theirs was a regretfully bade adieu to this world in a garden, unhappy plaything of a remorseless fate. But even before the first faint signs of the coming outburst, they were far out in space, speeding away from their condemned birthplace. For they had found a new home, a young and verile sun, on whose third planet they would build again their harmonious culture. Did they achieve that aim, and reach that vast family of worlds? Did they again build their wondrous civilization? WE SHOULD KNOW, FOR WE ARE THEY.
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