Clark Ashton Smith


Clark Ashton Smith Poems

121. Dissonance 3/24/2014
122. Do You Forget, Enchantress? 3/24/2014
123. Dolor Of Dreams 3/24/2014
124. Dominion 3/24/2014
125. Dominium In Excelsis 3/24/2014
126. Don Juan Sings 3/24/2014
127. Don Quixote On Market Street 3/24/2014
128. Dream Mystery 3/24/2014
129. Duality 4/4/2014
130. Echo Of Memnon 4/4/2014
131. Ecstasy 4/4/2014
132. Eidolon 4/4/2014
133. Enchanted Mirrors 4/4/2014
134. Enigma 4/4/2014
135. Ennui (Thou) 4/4/2014
136. Epitaph For An Astronomer 4/4/2014
137. Epitaph For The Earth 4/4/2014
138. Erato 4/4/2014
139. Eros Of Ebony 4/4/2014
140. Estrangement 4/4/2014
141. Even In Slumber 4/4/2014
142. Exorcism 4/4/2014
143. Exotique 4/4/2014
144. Fairy-Lanterns 4/10/2014
145. Fallen Grape-Leaf 4/10/2014
146. Fantaisie D'Antan 4/10/2014
147. Farewell To Eros 4/10/2014
148. Fawn-Lilies 4/10/2014
149. Feast Of St. Anthony 4/10/2014
150. February 4/10/2014
151. Felo-De-Se Of The Parasite 4/10/2014
152. Fence And Wall 4/10/2014
153. Field Behind The Abatoir 4/10/2014
154. Finis 4/10/2014
155. Fire Of Snow 4/10/2014
156. Flamingoes 4/10/2014
157. Flight Of The Yellow-Hammer 4/10/2014
158. Flora 4/10/2014
159. Foggy Night 4/10/2014
160. For An Antique Lyre 4/10/2014

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Best Poem of Clark Ashton Smith

The Hashish Eater -Or- The Apocalypse Of Evil

Bow down: I am the emperor of dreams;
I crown me with the million-colored sun
Of secret worlds incredible, and take
Their trailing skies for vestment when I soar,
Throned on the mounting zenith, and illume
The spaceward-flown horizons infinite.
Like rampant monsters roaring for their glut,
The fiery-crested oceans rise and rise,
By jealous moons maleficently urged
To follow me for ever; mountains horned
With peaks of sharpest adamant, and mawed
With sulphur-lit volcanoes lava-langued,
Usurp the skies with thunder, but in vain;
And continents of ...

Read the full of The Hashish Eater -Or- The Apocalypse Of Evil

The Absence Of The Muse

O Muse, where loiterest thou? In any land
Of Saturn, lit with moons and nenuphars?
Or in what high metropolis of Mars—
Hearing the gongs of dire, occult command,
And bugles blown from strand to unknown strand
Of continents embattled in old wars
That primal kings began? Or on the bars
Of ebbing seas in Venus, from the sand
Of shattered nacre with a thousand hues,

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