The House by H. P. LovecraftThe House
by H. P. Lovecraft
Written July 16, 1919 
Published in The Philospher in December, 1920 
  'Tis a grove-circled dwelling 
    Set close to a hill, 
  Where the branches are telling 
    Strange legends of ill; 
  Over timbers so old 
    That they breathe of the dead, 
  Crawl the vines, green and cold, 
    By strange nourishment fed; 
And no man knows the juices they suck from the depths of their dank slimy bed. 
  In the gardens are growing 
    Tall blossoms and fair, 
  Each pallid bloom throwing 
    Perfume on the air; 
  But the afternoon sun 
    with its shining red rays 
  Makes the picture loom dun 
    On the curious gaze, 
And above the sween scent of the the blossoms rise odours of numberless days. 
  The rank grasses are waving 
    On terrace and lawn, 
  Dim memories savouring 
    Of things that have gone; 
  The stones of the walks 
    Are encrusted and wet, 
  And a strange spirit stalks 
    When the red sun has set. 
And the soul of the watcher is fill'd with faint pictures he fain would forget. 
  It was in the hot Junetime 
    I stood by that scene, 
  When the gold rays of noontime 
    Beat bright on the green. 
  But I shiver'd with cold, 
    Groping feebly for light, 
  As a picture unroll'd - 
    And my age-spanning sight 
Saw the time I had been there before flash like fulgury out of the night. 



This poem is about the house at 135 Benefit Street in Providence that also 
inspired the short story "The Shunned House". 



Last modified: 02/19/2000 21:53:52 
