Masquerade

by R. Jere Black, Jr.


Last night I started from a dream,

And saw within the moonlight’s gleam

A shrouded figure by my bed,

All robed in black, with muffled head.

I stared awhile with fearful eyes

Before I pierced my friend’s disguise;

Then, banished all my foolish fear,

I welcomed him with hearty cheer:

“Hast come at last, old friend?” I cried.

“Long for thy greeting have I sighed ;

My house is empty, pleasures few ;

The only friend now left is you.

And art thous really come for me,

To bid me journey forth with thee!”

With solemn nod my friend replied,

Then touched my brow–and so I died.


This poem materialized in the March 1930 issue of Weird Tales. To read the full issue visit our page of the pulps.

Click Here for full issue

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s