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The Apparition By Herman Melville  |
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 (A Retrospect.) Convulsions came; and, where the fieldLong 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 fearOf horrors that happen so? | |||||||||||||
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