Published as “Yule Horror” in Weird Tales, December 1926 There is snow on the ground,And the valleys are cold,And a midnight profoundBlackly squats o’er the wold;But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of feastings unhallow’d and old. There is death in the clouds,There is fear in the night,For the dead in their shroudsHail the sun’s turning flight,And chant wild in the woods as they dance round a Yule-altar fungous and white. To no gale of earth’s kindSways the forest of oak,Where the sick boughs entwin’dBy mad mistletoes choke,For these pow’rs are the pow’rs of the dark, from the graves of the lost Druid-folk. And mayst thou to such deedsBe an abbot and priest,Singing cannibal greedsAt each devil-wrought feast,And to all the incredulous world shewing dimly the sign of the beast. Ancient Yuletide CarolAncient Yuletide Carol is the archive’s seasonal writers, specializing in festive winter lore. Though she was briefly “let go”/un-summoned for decking the halls with the bowels of Holly (one of our former assistants), Carol has since been re-instated and assigned several more-durable […]