1.
The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be
Not in the spaces we know, but between.
(Yog-Sothoth is the gate and holds the key)
They walk serene and primal, and unseen.
Yog-Sothoth's key and gate, both one and twain,
Not in the spaces we know, but between.
He knows where they broke through, and shall again
Where They trod earth's fields, and where They still tread
Yog-Sothoth's key and gate, both one and twain,
Their smell may sometimes, show them, it is said
And mayhaps their begotten seed may sprout
Where They trod earth's fields, and where They still tread
Some signs are subtle that mark their sons out
Others are almost born akin to that
(And mayhaps their begotten seed may sprout.)
Shape without sight or substance, which is them.
The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be
Others are almost born akin to that.
(Yog-Sothoth is the gate and holds the key)
2.
They walk unseen and foul in lonely places
Where the words were spoken and the rites were howled
The wind it gibbers with their voice's traces
The muttering earth, their consciousness has fouled.
They bend the forest and they crush the city,
Where the words were spoken and the rites were howled
Yet, none beholds the smiting hand, nor pity.
They pity not mankind, nor aught of ours
They bend the forest and they crush the city,
Kadath has known them, and what human powers
Has known Kadath, or seen the old carved stones
They pity not mankind, nor aught of ours
And where they tread, they leave but dust or bones.
The South's ice-desert, or the barnacled tower
Has known Kadath, or seen the old carved stones
But none have known Kadath nor gained its dower.
They walk unseen and foul in lonely places,
The South's ice-desert, or the barnacled tower,
The wind it gibbers with their voice's traces.
3.
Great Cthulhu is their Cousin, yet but dimly
Sees shades of forms that are, yet are as air
Ia! Shub-Niggurath! The trees crowd grimly,
Their hand is at your throat, yet they're not there.
Their habitation is one with your threshold,
Sees shades of forms that are, yet are as air,
Pass and re-pass, envelope you and press cold,
Though guards may walk its ramparts evermore.
Their habitation is one with your threshold,
Its crennelated turrets, armed : a door.
(Yog-Sothoth is the gate wherein the spheres breed.)
Though guards may walk its ramparts evermore
They are not souls of woman, nor of man's seed,
The ghosts of us, foreseen, they will return
Yog-Sothoth is the gate wherein the spheres breed
For after summer, winter, seasons turn
Great Cthulhu is their Cousin, yet but dimly
The ghosts of us, foreseen, they will return
Ia! Shub-Niggurath! The trees crowd grimly.
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