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Acolyte, v. 2, issue 1, whole no. 5, Fall 1943
Page 4
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And Natha was very happy for awhile, and he found a million things to puzzle or fascinate or please his childish mind; and he plucked many flowers, only to drop them when he found others that were larger or brighter. And he loved the rich, inebriating perfume of the flowers, and he loved their pale and amber and opalescent hues. Now, after a time, Natha became tired, and he thought of his little home and his mother's care with a sudden longing. And he tried to retrace his way through the deep jungle; but he had wandered far in the emerald gloom, and all things were different and unfamiliar, and he could not find the route by which he had come. Instead, he soon lost himself among trees that were vaster and darker than any he had yet seen; and around him were pallid blossoms broad as moons, that poured forth a heavy wave of overpowering lethal fragrance. And Natha was a little frightened now; but as he wandered on, the scent of the flowers began to make him drowsy. And the trees grew darker and taller still, and the blossoms were huge and bright as rising suns, and he seemed to drown in their perfume as in a voluptuous tide. And Natha was no longer frightened when he fell among the blossoms; and their faces receded and faded above him as he sank down to everlasting sleep. ----ooo0ooo---- 8. THE MITHRIDATE *** The world has a thousand poisons, thin or potent, honey-like or nauseous, quick or languid, corrosive and deadly, or captious and deceptive and narcotic. There are poisons bright as an amber wine, or rich as blood or rubies, or clear and hueless and innocent-seeming as the water of untroubled lakes, or dark and turbid as the ooze of the nether sea. There are poisons that slay the soul, that slay the heart or the mind or the body, and others that never slay, but only torture and benumb. Against all these, your love is the sovereign mithridate; and indeed, I have never found any other. But when you love me not, or live me ill, I am powerless against them; and even love itself becomes an immedicable poison--a poison that is doubly lethal because it kills so slowly, or does not kill at all. APPARITION by E. A. Edkins -o0o- Dreaming, I stood upon a crag that frowned Defiant to the onslaughts of the sea,-- (A leaning menace to the seething sea)-- Beneath, the shelving shingle's narrow bound. High in the mid-air hell there circled 'round Vast shapes of wrack and storm that sought to flee The cursed coast, the sentient enemy Of the gray sea's sardonic laugh. A sound More keen, more daunting, clove the tortured air, A human note of most unhuman woe,-- And down the shore, revealed in one brief glare Of blinding light, a form paced to and fro, Singing a dirge of rapture and despair; I saw the form, I heard the voice, of Pos. -- 4 --
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And Natha was very happy for awhile, and he found a million things to puzzle or fascinate or please his childish mind; and he plucked many flowers, only to drop them when he found others that were larger or brighter. And he loved the rich, inebriating perfume of the flowers, and he loved their pale and amber and opalescent hues. Now, after a time, Natha became tired, and he thought of his little home and his mother's care with a sudden longing. And he tried to retrace his way through the deep jungle; but he had wandered far in the emerald gloom, and all things were different and unfamiliar, and he could not find the route by which he had come. Instead, he soon lost himself among trees that were vaster and darker than any he had yet seen; and around him were pallid blossoms broad as moons, that poured forth a heavy wave of overpowering lethal fragrance. And Natha was a little frightened now; but as he wandered on, the scent of the flowers began to make him drowsy. And the trees grew darker and taller still, and the blossoms were huge and bright as rising suns, and he seemed to drown in their perfume as in a voluptuous tide. And Natha was no longer frightened when he fell among the blossoms; and their faces receded and faded above him as he sank down to everlasting sleep. ----ooo0ooo---- 8. THE MITHRIDATE *** The world has a thousand poisons, thin or potent, honey-like or nauseous, quick or languid, corrosive and deadly, or captious and deceptive and narcotic. There are poisons bright as an amber wine, or rich as blood or rubies, or clear and hueless and innocent-seeming as the water of untroubled lakes, or dark and turbid as the ooze of the nether sea. There are poisons that slay the soul, that slay the heart or the mind or the body, and others that never slay, but only torture and benumb. Against all these, your love is the sovereign mithridate; and indeed, I have never found any other. But when you love me not, or live me ill, I am powerless against them; and even love itself becomes an immedicable poison--a poison that is doubly lethal because it kills so slowly, or does not kill at all. APPARITION by E. A. Edkins -o0o- Dreaming, I stood upon a crag that frowned Defiant to the onslaughts of the sea,-- (A leaning menace to the seething sea)-- Beneath, the shelving shingle's narrow bound. High in the mid-air hell there circled 'round Vast shapes of wrack and storm that sought to flee The cursed coast, the sentient enemy Of the gray sea's sardonic laugh. A sound More keen, more daunting, clove the tortured air, A human note of most unhuman woe,-- And down the shore, revealed in one brief glare Of blinding light, a form paced to and fro, Singing a dirge of rapture and despair; I saw the form, I heard the voice, of Pos. -- 4 --
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