Convulsions came; and, where the field <br />Long slept in pastoral green, <br />A goblin-mountain was upheaved <br />(Sure the scared sense was all deceived), <br />Marl-glen and slag-ravine. <br /> <br />The unreserve of Ill was there, <br />The clinkers in her last retreat; <br />But, ere the eye could take it in, <br />Or mind could comprehension win, <br />It sunk! - and at our feet. <br /> <br />So, then, Solidity's a crust - <br />The core of fire below; <br />All may go well for many a year, <br />But who can think without a fear <br />Of horrors that happen so?<br /><br />Herman Melville<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-apparition-a-retrospect/
