The Conservative (Lovecraft)/October 1916/The Pool

For works with similar titles, see The Pool.
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The Pool

Above my head a leaf-lock'd sky.
A brown bowl sot beneath ray feet;
About my face pale ferns grow high.
And over all is silence sweet.

But Oh! sometimes in dreams I hear
A whisper, then a torrent's roar;
The shriek of wind, the belch of fear,
That I have known somewhere before!

Winifred Virginia Jordan

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