The thing, he said, would come in the night at three <br />From the old churchyard on the hill below; <br />But crouching by an oak fire's wholesome glow, <br />I tried to tell myself it could not be. <br /> <br />Surely, I mused, it was pleasantry <br />Devised by one who did not truly know <br />The Elder Sign, bequeathed from long ago, <br />That sets the fumbling forms of darkness free. <br /> <br />He had not meant it - no - but still I lit <br />Another lamp as starry Leo climbed <br />Out of the Seekonk, and a steeple chimed <br />Three - and the firelight faded, bit by bit. <br /> <br />Then at the door that cautious rattling came - <br />And the mad truth devoured me like a flame!<br /><br />Howard Phillips Lovecraft<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-messenger-9/
