The Fall Of The House Of Usher - I Prelude
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Shadows of shadows passing
It is now 1831, and as always, I am absorbed with a delicate thought
It is how poetry has indefinite sensations to which end music is inessential
Since the comprehension of sweet sound is our most indefinite conception
Music, when combined with a pleasurable idea, is poetry
Music, without the idea, is simply music
Without music or an intriguing idea, color becomes pallor
Man becomes carcass, home becomes catacomb
And the dead are, but for a moment, motionless