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MUSIC

 MUSIC doth uplift me like a sea 
Towards my planet pale, 
Then through dark fogs or heaven's infinity 
I lift my wandering sail.
With breast advanced, drinking the winds that flee, And through the cordage wail, I mount the hurrying waves night hides from me Beneath her sombre veil.
I feel the tremblings of all passions known To ships before the breeze; Cradled by gentle winds, or tempest-blown I pass the abysmal seas That are, when calm, the mirror level and fair Of my despair!

by Charles Baudelaire
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