“… I Will Stamp On The Ground With My Foot And Shake Down Every House …”


And such heats were begat among metals and stones, That the cave filled with sulphur, and bellowed with groans; And the earth, as if grasped by omnipotent might, Quaked dreadful, and shook with the throes of affright ; Deep northwardly rolled the electrical jar, Creating amazement, destruction, and war; The rivers they boiled like pot over coals, And mortals fell prostrate, and prayed for their souls: Every rock on our borders cracked, quivered, and shrunk, And Nackitosh tumbled, and New Madrid sunk.

The poem sank, like New Madrid, into quiet obscurity.