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The Mystery

My mind is like a troubled sea
O'er which the winds forever sweep;
Within its depths, eternally,
My being's pulses throb and leap;
There germs of contemplation sleep,
Like stars beyond the Milky Way,-
Like pearls within the gloomy deep,
That never saw the light of day.

Oh, wondrous mind, how little known!

Whence comes the thought that through my brain
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