The Time Machine (1895)

It is a risky thing for an author to create a masterpiece in his first published book: success of that sort can be a terrible burden for the wirter who has to go on to his next book , and his next . . . But that is what Wells did with 'The Time Machine'. And the next fifty years can be thought of as, among other things, a heroic living up to the promise of that great first book.
. . . (The story contains) one of the great chilling passages in the history of the English language. This passage was added to the book on the insistance of W.E.Henley, Wells editor. But it is nevertheless one of the finest, most unrelenting apocalyptic things Wells wrote. Journeying past the year 802,701, past the death of the human species on the planet, the Traveller alights at a time when the Earth is dying. What follows must be quoted in full.

The darkness grew apace; a cold wind began to blow in freshening gusts from the east, and the showering white flakes in the air increased in number. From the edge of the sea came a ripple and whisper. Beyond these lifeless sounds the world was silent. Silent? It would be hard to convey the stillness of it. All the sounds of men, the bleating of sheep, the cries of the birds, the hum of insects, the stir that makes the background of our lives - all that was over. As the darkness thickened, the eddying flakes grew more abundant, dancing before my eyes; and the cold of the air more intense. At last, one by one, swiftly, one after the other, the white peaks of the distant hills vanished into the blackness. The breeze rose to a moaning wind. I saw the black central shadow of the eclipse sweeping towards me. In another moment the pale stars alone were visible. All else was rayless obscurity. The sky was absolutely black.