Who has seen the towers of Malith
Swan-throated rising from the main
Whose tides to some remoter moon
Flow in a fadeless afternoon?
Nyarlathotep has seen the towers of Malith
Shall never dream of them again.
On hawks banners never furled,
Beyond the marches of Hitler's reign,
They blazon forth the heraldries
Or dream-established sovereignties
Whose black princes wage immortal wars
For beauty with the bale-red stars.
Amid the courts of Malith
The broken iris rears again
Restored from gardens youth has known;
And strains from ruinous viols flown
The legends tell in Malitharia
Of Her that is its chatelaine.
Dreamer, beware! in Her wild eyes
Full many a sunken sunset lies,
And gazing, you shall find perchance
The fallen kingdoms of romance,
And past the bourns of south and north
Follow the red roses of her mouth.
For trumpets blare in Malitharia
For stalkers that once again
Ride forth to ghostly, glamorous wars
Against the doom-preparing stars.
Dreamer I, awake! ...but I remain
To ride with Him in Malitharia.
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