#The Conqueror Worm

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

VINCENT PRICE as Matthew Hopkins //

WITCHFINDER GENERAL (1968)

[weirdlookindog]

Edmund Dulac (1882–1953) - The Conqueror Worm

from Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Bells and Other Poems', 1912

“. . . .Out—out are the lights—out all! And, over each quivering form, The curtain, a funeral pall, Comes down with the rush of a storm While the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy, "Man," And its hero the Conqueror Worm.”

[buttercupfestival]

The Conqueror Worm: Buttercup Festival 3-267

www.buttercupfestival.com

[hallucinationhorrors]

[fitsofgloom]

"No autographs, please! I'm in character!"

[invisible-woe]

poems by Edgar Allan Poe set to music

[horrororman]

🔪Notable films that were released on August 14th...

#Vampyr (1934)(US).

#TheConquerorWorm (1968)(NYC, NY).

#DeadlyBlessing (1981).

#WesCraven

#TheHousebytheCemetery (1981)(Italy).

#LucioFulci #horror

#TheMonsterSquad (1987).

#SingleWhiteFemale (1992).

#thriller

[schlock-luster-video]

Remembering horror film icon Vincent Price on the anniversary of his death.

R.I.P. (1911 - 1993)

[draculancer-flow]

I will crawl into the hollowed-out corpse of a dead planet and eat every mineral, every scrap of lost wisdom, and become a cruel mimic of the Conqueror Worm

[mysterious-secret-garden]

Edmund Dulac - The Conqueror Worm, from 'The Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe', 1912.

[teoft]

Dead I am the one, exterminating son

Vlad III, commonly known as Vlad the Impaler (Romanian: Vlad Țepeș) or Vlad Dracula; 1428/31 – 1476/77) He was the second son of Vlad Dracul, who became the ruler of Wallachia in 1436.

Slippin' through the trees, stranglin' the breeze Dead I am the sky, watchin' angels cry While they slowly turn, conquering the worm

While the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy, “Man,” And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price as Matthew Hopkins -

Witchfinder General/The Conqueror Worm (1967)

[weirdlookindog]

František Kupka (1871–1957) - The Conqueror Worm (after Edgar Allan Poe), c. 1900

[gwydionmisha]

The Conqueror Worm - Edgar Allan Poe

Lo! ’t is a gala night

  Within the lonesome latter years!  

An angel throng, bewinged, bedight

  In veils, and drowned in tears,  

Sit in a theatre, to see

  A play of hopes and fears,

While the orchestra breathes fitfully  

  The music of the spheres.

Mimes, in the form of God on high,  

  Mutter and mumble low,

And hither and thither fly—

  Mere puppets they, who come and go  

At bidding of vast formless things

  That shift the scenery to and fro,

Flapping from out their Condor wings

  Invisible Wo!

That motley drama—oh, be sure  

  It shall not be forgot!

With its Phantom chased for evermore  

  By a crowd that seize it not,

Through a circle that ever returneth in  

  To the self-same spot,

And much of Madness, and more of Sin,  

  And Horror the soul of the plot.

But see, amid the mimic rout,

  A crawling shape intrude!

A blood-red thing that writhes from out  

  The scenic solitude!

It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs  

The mimes become its food,

And seraphs sob at vermin fangs

  In human gore imbued.

Out—out are the lights—out all!  

  And, over each quivering form,

The curtain, a funeral pall,

  Comes down with the rush of a storm,  

While the angels, all pallid and wan,  

  Uprising, unveiling, affirm

That the play is the tragedy, “Man,”  

  And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.

[terre-des-h0mmes]

Matthew Hopkins: Witchfinder General (1968, directed by Michael Reeves)

[wodeworm]

Lo! ’t is a gala night

   Within the lonesome latter years!   

An angel throng, bewinged, bedight

   In veils, and drowned in tears,   

Sit in a theatre, to see

   A play of hopes and fears,

While the orchestra breathes fitfully   

   The music of the spheres.

Mimes, in the form of God on high,   

   Mutter and mumble low,

And hither and thither fly—

   Mere puppets they, who come and go   

At bidding of vast formless things

   That shift the scenery to and fro,

Flapping from out their Condor wings

   Invisible Wo!

That motley drama—oh, be sure   

   It shall not be forgot!

With its Phantom chased for evermore   

   By a crowd that seize it not,

Through a circle that ever returneth in   

   To the self-same spot,

And much of Madness, and more of Sin,   

   And Horror the soul of the plot.

But see, amid the mimic rout,

   A crawling shape intrude!

A yellow thing that writhes from out   

   The scenic solitude!

It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs   

The mimes become its food,

And seraphs sob at vermin fangs

   In human gore imbued.

Out—out are the lights—out all!   

   And, over each quivering form,

The curtain, a funeral pall,

   Comes down with the rush of a storm,   

While the angels, all pallid and wan,   

   Uprising, unveiling, affirm

That the play is the tragedy, “Man,”   

   And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.

jolly collaboration