Lovecraft, H P - Hypnos

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Hypnos

by H. P. Lovecraft

Written Mar 1922

Published May 1923 in The National Amateur, Vol. 45, No. 5, pages 1-3.

Apropos of sleep, that sinister adventure of all our nights, we may say that

men go to bed daily with an audacity that would be incomprehensible if

we did not know that it is the result of ignorance of the danger.

- Baudelaire

May the merciful gods, if indeed there be such, guard those hours when no power of the

will, or drug that the cunning of man devises, can keep me from the chasm of sleep.

Death is merciful, for there is no return therefrom, but with him who has come back out

of the nethermost chambers of night, haggard and knowing, peace rests nevermore. Fool

that I was to plunge with such unsanctioned phrensy into mysteries no man was meant to

penetrate; fool or god that he was - my only friend, who led me and went before me, and

who in the end passed into terrors which may yet be mine!

We met, I recall, in a railway station, where he was the center of a crowd of the vulgarly

curious. He was unconscious, having fallen in a kind of convulsion which imparted to his

slight black-clad body a strange rigidity. I think he was then approaching forty years of

age, for there were deep lines in the face, wan and hollow-cheeked, but oval and actually

beautiful; and touches of gray in the thick, waving hair and small full beard which had

once been of the deepest raven black. His brow was white as the marble of Pentelicus,

and of a height and breadth almost god-like.

I said to myself, with all the ardor of a sculptor, that this man was a faun's statue out of

antique Hellas, dug from a temple's ruins and brought somehow to life in our stifling age

only to feel the chill and pressure of devastating years. And when he opened his

immense, sunken, and wildly luminous black eyes I knew he would be thenceforth my

only friend - the only friend of one who had never possessed a friend before - for I saw

that such eyes must have looked fully upon the grandeur and the terror of realms beyond

normal consciousness and reality; realms which I had cherished in fancy, but vainly

sought. So as I drove the crowd away I told him he must come home with me and be my

teacher and leader in unfathomed mysteries, and he assented without speaking a word.

Afterward I found that his voice was music - the music of deep viols and of crystalline

spheres. We talked often in the night, and in the day, when I chiseled busts of him and

carved miniature heads in ivory to immortalize his different expressions.

Of our studies it is impossible to speak, since they held so slight a connection with

anything of the world as living men conceive it. They were of that vaster and more

appalling universe of dim entity and consciousness which lies deeper than matter, time,

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Lovecraft, H P - Hypnos

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