Greg Weeks produced the following for
Lycanthropus, by C. EDGAR BOLEN
The jellied night has oozed its miry black
From out the hills to fill the valley floor.
Atop the ragged hills the torn cloud-wrack
Is lightning-limned into a hellish door.
A gust of wind across the sky is hurled—
The gods of old are loosed upon the world.
Age-old, the blood-lust wells within my throat;
Tensely I wait, and feel my body shrink;
My hairless hide becomes a furry coat.
Blood-hungry, through the opened door I slink;
I raise my head and howl in horrid glee—
And from the plain a howl comes back to me.
According to the TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: This etext was produced from Weird Tales August-September 1936.