The Key to those Vague Visions

I do not know what windings in the waste
Of those strange sea-lanes brought me home once more,
But on my porch I trembled, white with haste
To get inside and bolt the heavy door.
I had the book that told the hidden way
Across the void and through the space-hung screens
That hold the undimensioned worlds at bay,
And keep lost aeons to their own demesnes.

At last the key was mine to those vague visions
Of sunset spires and twilight woods that brood
Dim in the gulfs beyond this earth’s precisions,
Lurking as memories of infinitude.
The key was mine, but as I sat there mumbling,
The attic window shook with a faint fumbling.


DESCRIPTION: In his poem “The Key,” Lovecraft describes his speaker’s sense of triumph when he learns, with the help of a stolen grimoire, how to transcend space and time.

CITATION: Lovecraft, H. P. “The Key.” The Ancient Track: The Complete Poetical Works of H. P. Lovecraft. Edited by S. T. Joshi, Hippocampus Press, 2013, p. 81.

As I Sit on Charleston’s Battery

Just now—as I sit in the sun on Charleston’s Battery, I am being pestered by dozens of coal-black pickaninnies of the average age of eight, who want (a) to dance a jig for my benefit in exchange for a penny, and (b) to black my already-blacked boots. Dey des nochally ca’n’t un’erstan’ wha de genmum ruther write letters than improve his personal appearance or advance his choreographic education! Damn hard little wasps to shoo off—but one doesn’t want to be cross with them.


DESCRIPTION: In a letter to an unknown acquaintance named Mr. Bantz, Lovecraft describes his trip to Charleston, South Carolina, and his interaction with the local African Americans there.

CITATION: Lovecraft, H. P. “To Mr. Bantz.” Selected Letters. Edited by August Derleth and James Turner, vol. 5, Arkham House, 1976, p. 178.