1. |
City of Light
04:11
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It was golden and splendid,
That City of light;
A vision suspended
In deeps of the night;
A region of wonder and glory,
whose temples were marble and white.
More lovely than Zion
It shone in the sky
When the beams of Orion
Beclouded my eye,
Bringing sleep that was filled with dim mem'ries
of moments obscure and gone by.
In that city effulgent
No mortal I saw,
But my fancy, indulgent
To memory's law,
Linger'd long on the forms in the plazas,
and eyed their stone features with awe.
I fann'd the faint ember
That glow'd in my mind,
And strove to remember
The aeons behind;
To rove thro' infinity freely,
and visit the past unconfin'd.
In that city effulgent
No mortal I saw,
But my fancy, indulgent
To memory's law,
Linger'd long on the forms in the plazas,
and eyed their stone features with awe.
Then the horrible warning
Upon my soul sped
Like the ominous morning
That rises in red,
And in panic I flew from the knowledge
of terrors forgotten and dead.
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2. |
Midnight Rites
04:44
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There is snow on the ground,
And the valleys are cold,
And a midnight profound
Blackly squats over the wold;
But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of
feastings unhallowed and old.
There is dread in the clouds,
There is fear in the night,
For the gone in their shrouds
Hail 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 kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the thick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these powers are the powers of the dark,
from the crypts of the lost Druid-folk.
There is dread in the clouds,
There is fear in the night,
For the gone in their shrouds
Hail the sun's turning flight.
And chant wild in the woods as they dance
round a Yule-altar fungous and white.
To no gale
To no gale of Earth's kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the thick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these powers are the powers of the dark,
from the crypts of the lost Druid-folk.
To no gale of Earth's kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the thick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these powers are the powers of the dark,
from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.
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3. |
The Nightmare Lake
04:15
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There is a lake in distant Zan,
Beyond the wonted haunts of man,
Where broods alone in a hideous state
A spirit dead and desolate;
A spirit ancient and unholy,
Heavy with fearsome melancholy,
Which from the waters dull and dense
Draws vapors cursed with pestilence.
Around the banks, a mire of clay,
Sprawl things offensive in decay,
And curious birds that reach that shore
Are seen by mortals nevermore.
Here shines by day the searing sun
On glassy wastes beheld by none,
And here by night pale moonbeams flow
Into the deeps that yawn below.
Around the banks, a mire of clay,
Sprawl things offensive in decay,
And curious birds that reach that shore
Are seen by mortals nevermore.
Here shines by day the searing sun
On glassy wastes beheld by none,
And here by night pale moonbeams flow
The shadows of a voiceless race.
In nightmares only is it told
What scenes beneath those beams unfold;
What scenes, too old for human sight,
Lie sunken there in endless night;
Lizards and snakes convuls'd and dying;
Ravens and vampires putrefying;
For in those depths there only pace
The shadows of a voiceless race.
In nightmares only is it told
What scenes beneath those beams unfold;
What scenes, too old for human sight,
Lie sunken there in endless night;
Round slimy sepulchres that lay
Beside a never-travell'd way.
For in those depths there only pace
The shadows of a voiceless race.
For in those depths there only pace
The shadows of a voiceless race.
For in those depths there only pace
The shadows of a voiceless race.
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4. |
Garden of the Heart
04:03
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There's an ancient, ancient garden that I see sometimes in dreams,
Where the very Maytime sunlight plays and glows with spectral gleams;
Where the gaudy-tinted blossoms seem to wither into grey,
And the crumbling walls and pillars waken thoughts of yesterday.
There are vines in nooks and crannies, and there's moss about the pool,
And the tangled weedy thicket chokes the arbor dark and cool:
In the silent sunken pathways springs a herbage sparse and spare,
Where the musty scent of dead things dulls the fragrance of the air.
There is not a living creature in the lonely space around,
And the hedge-encompass'd quiet never echoes to a sound.
As I walk, and wait, and listen, I will often seek to find
When it was I knew that garden in an age long left behind;
There is not a living creature in the lonely space around,
And the hedge-encompass'd quiet never echoes to a sound.
As I walk, and wait, and listen, I will often seek to find
When it was I knew that garden in an age long left behind;
I will oft conjure a vision of a day that is no more,
As I gaze upon the grey, grey scenes I feel I knew before.
Then a sadness settles o'er me, and a tremor seems to start—
the garden is my heart.
The garden is my heart.
The garden is my heart.
The garden is my heart.
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5. |
Cats of the Moon
04:53
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Babels of blocks to the high heavens towering
Flames of futility swirling below;
Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flowering,
Lanterns that shudder and death-lights that glow.
Black monstrous bridges across oily rivers,
Cobwebs of cable to nameless things spun;
Catacomb deeps whose dank chaos delivers
Streams of live fetor that rots in the sun.
Color and dream the, disease and decaying,
Shrieking and ringing and crawling insane,
Rabbles exotic to stranger-gods praying,
Jumbles of odor that stifle the brain.
Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal.
Howling and lean in the glare of the moon,
Screaming the future with mouthings infernal,
Yelling the Garden of Pluto's red rune.
Tall towers and pyramids ivy'd and crumbling,
Bats that swoop low in the weed-cumber'd streets;
Bleak Arkham bridges o'er rivers whose rumbling
Joins with no voice as the thick horde retreats.
Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal.
Howling and lean in the glare of the moon,
Screaming the future with mouthings infernal,
Yelling the Garden of Pluto's red rune.
Belfries that buckle against the moon totter,
Caverns whose mouths are by mosses effac'd,
And living to answer the wind and the water,
Only the lean cats that howl in the wastes.
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6. |
Bride of the Sea
04:42
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Black loom the crags of the uplands behind me,
Dark are the sands of the far-stretching shore.
Dim are the pathways and rocks that remind me
Sadly of years in the lost Nevermore.
Soft laps the ocean on wave-polish'd boulder,
Sweet is the sound and familiar to me;
Here, with her head gently bent to my shoulder,
Walk'd I with Unda, the Bride of the Sea.
Bright was the morn of my youth when I met her,
Sweet as the breeze that blew o'er the brine.
Swift was I captur'd in Love's strongest fetter,
Glad to be here, and she glad to be mine.
Never a question ask'd I where she wander'd,
Never a question ask'd she of my birth:
Happy as children, we thought not nor ponder'd,
Glad of the bounty of ocean and earth.
Once when the moonlight play’d soft ’mid the billows,
High on the cliff o’er the waters we stood,
Bound was her hair with a garland of willows,
Pluck’d by the fount in the bird-haunted wood.
Coldly she left me, astonish'd and weeping,
Standing alone 'mid the legions she bless'd:
Down, ever downward, half gliding, half creeping,
Stole the sweet Unda in oceanward quest.
Calm grew the sea, and tumultuous beating
Turn'd to a ripple as Unda the fair
Trod the wet sands in affectionate greeting,
Beckon'd to me, and no longer was there!
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7. |
Crimson Madness
03:46
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In the Midnight heaven's burning
Through the ethereal deeps afar
Once I watch'd with restless yearning
An alluring aureate star;
Ev'ry eve aloft returning
Gleaming nigh the Arctic Car.
There (I told myself) were shining
Worlds of happiness unknown,
Peace and Innocence entwining
By the Crowned Virtue's throne;
Men of light, their thoughts refining
Purer, fairer, than my own.
Thus I mus'd when o'er the vision
Crept a red delirious change;
Hope dissolving to derision,
Beauty to distortion strange;
Hymnic chords in weird collision,
Spectral sights in endless range....
Crimson burn'd the star of madness
As behind the beams I peer'd;
All was woe that seem'd but gladness
Ere my gaze with Truth was sear'd;
Cacodaemons, mir'd with madness,
Through the fever'd flick'ring leer'd....
Now I know the fiendish fable
That the golden glitter bore;
Now I shun the spangled sable
That I watch'd and lov'd before;
But the horror, set and stable,
Haunts my soul forevermore!
But the horror, set and stable,
Haunts my soul forevermore!
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8. |
Like a Flame
04:20
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The thing, he said, would come in the night at three
From the old churchyard on the hill below;
But crouching by an oak fire's wholesome glow,
I tried to tell myself it could not be.
Surely, I mused, it was pleasantry
Devised by one who did not truly know
The Elder Sign, bequeathed from long ago,
That sets the fumbling forms of darkness free.
He had not meant it—no—but still I lit
Another lamp as starry Leo climbed
Out of the Seekonk, and a steeple chimed
Three—and the firelight faded, bit by bit.
Then at the door that cautious rattling came—
And the mad truth devoured me like a flame!
Then at the door that cautious rattling came—
And the mad truth devoured me like a flame!
I tried to tell myself it could not be.
And the mad truth devoured me like a flame!
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9. |
Immortal Moon
04:53
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Immortal Moon, in maiden dream the shine;
Dispense thy beams, divine Latona's child.
Thy silver rays all grosser things define,
And hide harsh Truth in sweet illusion mild.
In thy soft light, the city of unrest
That stands so squalid in thy brother's glare,
Throws off its habit, and in silence blest,
Becomes a vision, sparkling bright and fair.
The modern world, with all its care and pain
The smoky streets, the loathsome clanging mills,
Face 'neath thy beams, Selene, and again
We dream as shepherds.
The modern world, with all its care and pain
The smoky streets, the loathsome clanging mills,
Face 'neath thy beams, Selene, and again
We dream as shepherds on Chaldea's hills.
Take heed, Diana, of my humble plea;
Convey me where my happiness can last,
Draw me against the tide of Time's rough sea,
And let my spirit rest amidst the past.
The modern world, with all its care and pain
The smoky streets, the loathsome clanging mills,
Face 'neath thy beams, Selene, and again
We dream as shepherds on Chaldea's hills.
Immortal Moon, Immortal Moon
Immortal Moon, Immortal Moon
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10. |
The Vast Unknown
04:04
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11. |
Tombs of the Ages
04:03
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Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,
Past the wan-mooned abysses of night,
I have lived o'er my lives without number,
I have sounded all things with my sight;
And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.
I have whirled with the earth at the dawning,
When the sky was a vaporous flame;
I have seen the dark universe yawning
Where the black planets roll without aim,
Where they roll in their horror unheeded, without knowledge or luster or name.
I have haunted the tombs of the ages,
I have flown on the pinions of fear,
Where the smoke-belching Erebus rages;
Where the jokulls loom snow-clad and drear,
Where the sun of the desert consumes what it never can cheer.
I have haunted the tombs of the ages,
I have flown on the pinions of fear,
Where the smoke-belching Erebus rages;
Where the jokulls loom snow-clad and drear.
I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
I was old in those epochs uncounted
When I, and I only, was vile.
I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
I was old in those epochs uncounted
When I, and I only, was vile;
When I, and I only, was vile.
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12. |
Yule Horror
04:08
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There is snow on the ground,
And the valleys are cold,
And a midnight profound
Blackly squats over the wold;
But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of
feastings unhallowed and old.
There is dread in the clouds,
There is fear in the night,
For the gone in their shrouds
Hail 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 kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the thick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these powers are the powers of the dark,
from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.
To no gale of Earth's kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the thick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these powers are the powers of the dark,
from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.
And mayst thou to such deeds
Be an abbot and priest,
Singing cannibal greeds
At each devil-wrought feast,
And to all the incredulous world
showing dimly the sign of the beast.
To no gale of Earth's kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the thick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these powers are the powers of the dark,
from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.
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Bynar Brighton And Hove, UK
Bynar is a mash-up artist, DJ, and radio producer known for his innovative blending of indie rock, post-punk, goth, and electronica, underscored by a distinct affinity for all things doom and gloom. His creative output is showcased through his numerous mashups and his embrace of generative AI technology to produce an indie rock album inspired by the haunting poetry of H.P. Lovecraft. ... more
Bynar recommends:
One Night At The Station
by Contre Jour
For fans of heavy bass, haunting guitars, sonorous old-school synth and emotional vocals that seem plunged into a stylish, erotic and slightly gothic atmosphere of an English club circa 1980.
go to albumIf you like Bynar, you may also like:
Ottawa duo Paragon Cause craft songs that occupy the space between goth and dream pop, with sublime melodies drifting in guitar haze.
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The Menace Of Mechanical Music
by Team Picture
Marvelously free-roaming music out of Leeds that makes stops at post-punk, art pop, and even ambient.
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The enigmatic Frank Ene's solo record lives in a magical world where Serge Gainsbourg fronts Yellow Magic Orchestra.
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Slashing, ice-cold, irresistible goth from Paris—your perfect haunted house soundtrack.
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I Will Be the Sun for You
by Sally Dige
The brilliant Sally Dige returns with this sweeping new single that is grand in scope and centered on a radiant chorus.
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