Robert E. Howard All fled, all done...

All fled, all done,

so lift me on the pyre;

The feast is over

The lamps expire

“Queen of the Black Coast” Robert E. Howard

  Pencils by John Buscema Inks by Ernie Chan

The shadows were black around him, 

The dripping jaws gaped wide, 

Thicker than rain the red drops fell; 

But my love was fiercer than Death's black spell, 

Nor all the iron walls of hell 

Could keep me from his side. 

—The Song of Bêlit.

Now we are done with roaming, evermore; 

No more the oars, the windy harp's refrain; 

Nor crimson pennon frights the dusky shore; 

Blue girdle of the world, receive again 

Her whom thou gavest me. 

—The Song of Bêlit.

[from “Queen of the Black Coast”; to read the complete poem, see The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard, p. 48;Always Comes Evening , p. 68 and Robert E. Howard Selected Poems , p. 435]

“The Cats of Anubis 2.” Robert E. Howard

The stars come blinking in a dusky sky, 

Like yellow eyes of vast Bubastes cats 

And dim and shadowy the restless bats 

Against the creeping twilight wheel and fly. 

Grey shadows mask the sands, the desert shrinks, 

And yet, unseen, seems still more dim and vast, 

Against the stars rears up the silent Sphinx 

A brooding monster of forgotten past.

A shadow 'mid those ruins glides and creeps, 

A thing from which the shuddering moonlight leaps; 

Like witch-rid wind from out of the hinterlands 

A fog-like aura haunts the sombre sands. 

Grim, dreaming monstrous dreams of naked feet 

That danced in worship many a frightful feast; 

Unhallowed rites that for such god were meet, 

Unholy neophyte and grisly priest.

Egypt, thou land still chained unto the past, 

Thy ghost gods in the deserts still are massed 

And many a fearful shape still glides and leers. 

The phantom, stealing down the slaughtered years 

From out the fastness of some unthought Thule, 

Brooding upon his ancient bestial rule— 

Freedom is naught, till men have conquered this, 

This undying fiend, the Cat of Anubis!

[from “The Cats of Anubis 2.”; to read the complete poem, see The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard, p. 179; Night Images , p. 15 and Robert E. Howard Selected Poems , p. 147]

“An Echo From the Iron Harp” Robert E. Howard

Shadows and echoes haunt my dreams with dim and subtle pain, 

With the faded fire of a lost desire, like a ghost on a moonlit plain. 

In the pallid mist of death-like sleep she comes again to me: 

I see the gleam of her golden hair and her eyes like the deep grey sea. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

We came from the North as the spume is blown when the blue tide billows down; 

The kings of the South were overthrown in ruin of camp and town. 

Shrine and temple we dashed to dust, and roared in the dead gods' ears; 

We saw the fall of the kings of Gaul, and shattered the Belgae spears.

And South we rolled like a drifting cloud, like a wind that bends the grass, 

But we smote in vain on the gates of Spain for our own kin held the Pass. 

Then again we turned where the watch-fires burned to mark the lines of Rome, 

And fire and tower and standard sank as ships that die in foam.

[from “An Echo From the Iron Harp”; to read the complete poem, see The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard , p. 7;Night Images , p. 48 and Robert E. Howard Selected Poems , p. 190]

“The Deed Beyond the Deed” Robert E. Howard

Rane o' the Sword, wha' men misca' the fool, 

Has turned his galley to the unco' lands; 

Now in the dragon girten prow he stands. 

Billows abune the token o' his rule, 

Great fold on fold, the rover's banner spread. 

The hard neives dirl the ash ayint the tide 

The war shields klish amain alang the side, 

The red moon hammers dune a sea o' red.

Rane o' the Sword, nae sairly do we greet 

To see your taps'yls scuddin' dune the west, 

Nae muckle love bear we for a' your breed— 

Bluid willna dry like water—yet 'tis meet 

We gi' ye due, that curious unrest 

Wha' gars ye seek the deed beyant the deed.

[from “The Deed Beyond the Deed”; this is the complete poem as it appears in The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard , p. 10]

“The Adventurer” Robert E. Howard

Dusk on the sea; the fading twilight shifts; 

The night wind bears the ocean's whisper dim— 

Wind, on your bosom many a phantom drifts— 

A silver star climbs up the blue world rim. 

Wind, make the green leaves dance above me here 

And idly swing my silken hammock—so; 

Now, on that glimmering molten silver mere 

Send the long ripples wavering to and fro. 

And let your moon-white tresses touch my face 

And let me know your slim-armed, cool embrace 

While to my dreamy soul you whisper low.

South Seas! I watch when dusky twilight comes 

Making vague gods of ancient, sea-set trees. 

The world path beckons—loud the mystic drums— 

Here at my hand the magic golden keys 

That fit the doors of Romance, Wonder, strange 

Dim gossamer adventures; seas and stars. 

Why, I have roamed the far Moon Mountain range 

When sunset minted gold in shimmering bars. 

All eager eyed I've sailed from ports of Spain 

And watched the flashing topaz of the Main 

When dawn was flinging witch fire on the spars. 

….. 

I am content in dreams to roam my fill 

The vagrant, drifting sport of wind and tide, 

Slave of the greater freedom, venture's thrill; 

Here every magic ship on which I ride. 

Gold, green, blue, red, a priceless treasure trove, 

More wealth than ever pirate dared to dream. 

My hammock swings—about the world I rove. 

The sunset's dusk, the dawning's glide and gleam, 

Moon-dappled leaves are murmuring in the wind 

Which whispers tales. Lo, Tyre is just behind, 

Through seas of dawn I sail, Romance abeam .

[from “The Adventurer”; to read the complete poem, see The Collected Poetry of Robert E. Howard , p. 269 and Robert E. Howard Selected Poems , p. 112]