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Music - (Twelve Translations From Charles Baudelaire)

Topics: classic

Oft Music, as it were some moving mighty sea,              Bears me towards my pale          Star: in clear space, or 'neath a vaporous canopy              On-floating, I set sail.          With heaving chest which strains forward, and lungs outblown,              I climb the ridgd steeps          Of those high-pild clouds which 'thwart the night are thrown,              Veiling its starry deeps.          I suffer all the throes, within my quivering form,              Of a great ship in pain,          Now a soft wind, and now the writhings of a storm              Upon the vasty main          Rock me: at other times a death-like calm, the bare              Mirror of my despair.

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"Oft Music, as it were some moving mighty sea,..."

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"The Text is taken from Percy's Reliques (1765), vol. i. p. 71, 'given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland.' Herd had a very similar bal"

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