The Apparition: A Retrospect

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Convulsions came; and, where the field
 Long slept in pastoral green,
A goblin-mountain was upheaved
(Sure the scared sense was all deceived),
 Marl-glen and slag-ravine.

The unreserve of Ill was there,
 The clinkers in her last retreat;
But, ere the eye could take it in,
Or mind could comprehension win,
 It sunk! - and at our feet.

So, then, Solidity's a crust -
 The core of fire below;
All may go well for many a year,
But who can think without a fear
 Of horrors that happen so?

© Herman Melville