Fungoid Stream - Antarktos

Deep in my dream the great bird whispered queerly
Of the black cone amid the polar waste
Pushing above the ice-sheet lone and drearly
By storm-crazed aeons battered and defaced

If men should glimpse it, they would merely wonder
What tricky mound of Nature's build they spied
But the bird told of vaster parts, that under
The mile-deep ice-shroud crouch and brood and bide
God help the dreamer whose mad visions shew
Those dead eyes set in crystal gulfs below