DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Phanteur, whole no. 1, January 1946

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Phanteur, whole no. 1, January 1946

Page 16

16 PHANTEUR 16
CHRISTMAS SONG - 1944
Snow-laden are the windy trees,
And stars float o'er the frozen lake;
Gone are the dead red Autumn leaves--
Not now do bird and beast awake
To warmth, and light, and summer breeze;
Instead, the thin bare branches shake
Their loads of snow in icy sheaves,
Or, burdened, bend and break.

I do not hear the Christmas-bells;
I hear naught but the blinding noise
That echoes from a hundred hells
Around the world--and dim death-knells
For gallant men and boys.
--Raymond W. Washington, Jr.
---:oo0oo:---
FIRE IN THE NIGHT
A new fire in the land, and a brilliant fire,
A radiance sweeping 'cross the skies of night,
A new world coming, a new world here, and different
And mightier than the world that we have known,
A strange new world we dreamt but did not see.
The fire
Lights the thousand windows of my soul,
And parts of me that never yet were touched
By things of earth, are kindled into flame
By the fire, the far bright heaven-searching fire
Of rocket-jets.
--Chan Davis
---:oo0oo:---
MEMORY
Either that sound
Is the rustle of wind-driven leaves and cold rain hitting the window--
Or it is the murmur of swarms of monkey-feet
That run and leap through branches overhead,
That throng through swaying treetops
Ten million years ago.
Some part of me which is the ghost of them
Awakes,
Sees through their eyes and hears the sounds they heard,
Lives only for the swift sure swing of hand on branch, and leap, and hand and
foot on branch, and leap, and
Some day the ghost of me will walk
In something else's mind--
Some cold autumn day
When the wind drives the leaves and the rain.
--Chan Davis
---:oo0oo:---
Christmas Song, 1945
Accross the globe, men kill,
Permanently. Permanently,
For Freedom, die; but still-- The battle flags are furled
Officially. Officially,
Sweet Peace broods or the World.
-- D. B. Thompson

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16 PHANTEUR 16 CHRISTMAS SONG - 1944 Snow-laden are the windy trees, And stars float o'er the frozen lake; Gone are the dead red Autumn leaves-- Not now do bird and beast awake To warmth, and light, and summer breeze; Instead, the thin bare branches shake Their loads of snow in icy sheaves, Or, burdened, bend and break. I do not hear the Christmas-bells; I hear naught but the blinding noise That echoes from a hundred hells Around the world--and dim death-knells For gallant men and boys. --Raymond W. Washington, Jr. ---:oo0oo:--- FIRE IN THE NIGHT A new fire in the land, and a brilliant fire, A radiance sweeping 'cross the skies of night, A new world coming, a new world here, and different And mightier than the world that we have known, A strange new world we dreamt but did not see. The fire Lights the thousand windows of my soul, And parts of me that never yet were touched By things of earth, are kindled into flame By the fire, the far bright heaven-searching fire Of rocket-jets. --Chan Davis ---:oo0oo:--- MEMORY Either that sound Is the rustle of wind-driven leaves and cold rain hitting the window-- Or it is the murmur of swarms of monkey-feet That run and leap through branches overhead, That throng through swaying treetops Ten million years ago. Some part of me which is the ghost of them Awakes, Sees through their eyes and hears the sounds they heard, Lives only for the swift sure swing of hand on branch, and leap, and hand and foot on branch, and leap, and Some day the ghost of me will walk In something else's mind-- Some cold autumn day When the wind drives the leaves and the rain. --Chan Davis ---:oo0oo:--- Christmas Song, 1945 Accross the globe, men kill, Permanently. Permanently, For Freedom, die; but still-- The battle flags are furled Officially. Officially, Sweet Peace broods or the World. -- D. B. Thompson