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Acolyte, v. 2, issue 1, whole no. 5, Fall 1943
Page 3
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PROSE PASTELS by Clark Ashton Smith -o0o- 6. TO THE DAEMON **** Tell me many tales, O benign maleficent daemon, but tell me none that I have ever heard or have even dreamt of otherwise than obscurely or infrequently. Nay, tell me not of anything that lies between the bourns of time or the limits of space: for I am a little weary of all recorded years and charted lands; and the isles that are westward of Cathay, and the sunset realms of Ind, are not remote enough to be made the abiding-place of my conceptions; and Atlantis is over-new for my thoughts to sojourn there, and Mu itself has gazed upon the sun in aeons that are too recent. Tell me many tales, but let them be of things that are past the lore of legend and of which there are no myths in our world or any world adjoining. Tell me, if you will, of the years when the moon was young, with the sire-rippled seas and mountains that were zoned with flowers from base to summit; tell me of the planets grey with eld, of the worlds whereon no mortal astronomer has ever looked, and whose mystic heavens and horizons have given pause to visionaries. Tell me of the vaster blossoms within whose cradling chalices a woman could sleep; of the seas of fire that beat on strands of ever-during ice; of perfumes that can give eternal slumber in a breath; of eyeless titans that dwell in Uranus, and beings that wander in the green light of the twin suns of azure and orange. Tell me tales of inconceivable fear and unimaginable love, in orbs whereto our sun is a nameless star, or unto which its rays have never reached. ----ooo0ooo---- 7. THE FORBIDDEN FOREST *** The child Natha lived with his father and mother in a little house not far from the verge of the great jungle. Every day he could see the ancient trees that were taller than ebony or mahogany, and the gleaming of enormous orchids upon their matted creepers. His parents had told him that he must never venture within the jungle, for the beauty of the high palms and hanging flowers concealed a host off dreadful perils, and venomous serpents and dire monsters dwelt among them. But Natha thought that nothing in the world could be so beautiful as the jungle; and it lured him evermore with they mystery of its infinitude, with its manifold and silent and fantastic loveliness; and he dreamt that the flowers would be fairer still, and the trees more high and stately, if he could see them near at hand. And the child Natha grew to love the jungle with a strange and fearful love. One day, when his parents had gone on a brief journey, and had given him many parting admonitions to avoid the perilous wood, Natha left the little house, and crossed the open fields in which he was permitted to play, and drew near to the forbidden forest. His tiny heart began to beat like a drum, when the monstrous palms and liana-laden trees loomed above him. But their shadows were so cool and green and deep, and he saw so many blossoms, so many fretted ferns and lovely-shapen leaves, and so many butterflies that vanished or emerged among them, and so many saffron and scarlet and azure birds that flew away with strange cries in the emerald gloom, that he soon lost all memory of his parents' warning, and wandered further and further, following the butterflies and tie birds. -- 3 --
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PROSE PASTELS by Clark Ashton Smith -o0o- 6. TO THE DAEMON **** Tell me many tales, O benign maleficent daemon, but tell me none that I have ever heard or have even dreamt of otherwise than obscurely or infrequently. Nay, tell me not of anything that lies between the bourns of time or the limits of space: for I am a little weary of all recorded years and charted lands; and the isles that are westward of Cathay, and the sunset realms of Ind, are not remote enough to be made the abiding-place of my conceptions; and Atlantis is over-new for my thoughts to sojourn there, and Mu itself has gazed upon the sun in aeons that are too recent. Tell me many tales, but let them be of things that are past the lore of legend and of which there are no myths in our world or any world adjoining. Tell me, if you will, of the years when the moon was young, with the sire-rippled seas and mountains that were zoned with flowers from base to summit; tell me of the planets grey with eld, of the worlds whereon no mortal astronomer has ever looked, and whose mystic heavens and horizons have given pause to visionaries. Tell me of the vaster blossoms within whose cradling chalices a woman could sleep; of the seas of fire that beat on strands of ever-during ice; of perfumes that can give eternal slumber in a breath; of eyeless titans that dwell in Uranus, and beings that wander in the green light of the twin suns of azure and orange. Tell me tales of inconceivable fear and unimaginable love, in orbs whereto our sun is a nameless star, or unto which its rays have never reached. ----ooo0ooo---- 7. THE FORBIDDEN FOREST *** The child Natha lived with his father and mother in a little house not far from the verge of the great jungle. Every day he could see the ancient trees that were taller than ebony or mahogany, and the gleaming of enormous orchids upon their matted creepers. His parents had told him that he must never venture within the jungle, for the beauty of the high palms and hanging flowers concealed a host off dreadful perils, and venomous serpents and dire monsters dwelt among them. But Natha thought that nothing in the world could be so beautiful as the jungle; and it lured him evermore with they mystery of its infinitude, with its manifold and silent and fantastic loveliness; and he dreamt that the flowers would be fairer still, and the trees more high and stately, if he could see them near at hand. And the child Natha grew to love the jungle with a strange and fearful love. One day, when his parents had gone on a brief journey, and had given him many parting admonitions to avoid the perilous wood, Natha left the little house, and crossed the open fields in which he was permitted to play, and drew near to the forbidden forest. His tiny heart began to beat like a drum, when the monstrous palms and liana-laden trees loomed above him. But their shadows were so cool and green and deep, and he saw so many blossoms, so many fretted ferns and lovely-shapen leaves, and so many butterflies that vanished or emerged among them, and so many saffron and scarlet and azure birds that flew away with strange cries in the emerald gloom, that he soon lost all memory of his parents' warning, and wandered further and further, following the butterflies and tie birds. -- 3 --
Hevelin Fanzines
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