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August Derleth: Incubus
She said, A creeping, crawling thing had lain Each night upon the counterpane … They said, It could not be, it only seemed To be; she had but dreamed … She said, Sometimes at night she felt its...
View ArticleMinnie Faigre Knox: Clair de lune
O never ye sleep in the moonlight, My pious old Granny would say, For sleepers, bewitched by the moonlight, With madness thereafter are fay. But why should I sleep when the moon shines, And waste all...
View ArticleParker White: Sonnet of the Unsleeping Dead
That night when all the madness of the sea met with the pelting clatter of the rain to guard her fresh-dug tomb, despairingly I thought I could not know despair again. The widower of beauty, I resolved...
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