Demons of the waxing light,
Seek shelter here within my house.
My fireplace entertains a flaming guest,
and so shall I tonight.
So shall I turn with caution these yellowed pages, vainly hoping for some fleeting spark of wisdom to leap out and ignite imagination. Thus do I make room for revelation. Noiseless cemetery sentiments yell curses at my soul! Have not the hounds of hellish moors been lain to rest before? Count yourself among the lucky! Make fast to shut ye door!