What may these things portend?
Raim. It was a day
Of festival like this; the city sent
Up through her sunny firmament a voice
Joyous as now; when, scarcely heralded
By one deep moan, forth from his cavernous depths
The earthquake burst; and the wide splendid scene
Became one chaos of all fearful things,
Till the brain whirl’d, partaking the sick motion
Of rocking palaces.