The formal retreat
Franz Schopenhauer
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I long to reform My madly gone striving The mind's, driven storm From beauty deriving So longing, get rid Of being dependent On formal retreat My heart's, a defendant Is rushing away From being restricted To mildly convey My senses afflicted And trying ignore The pressure I fear Though let, in the core My feelings to steer I am almost fallen The formal desired Retreated, self stolen Sweet selfish admired Is rushing away From being restricted To mildly convey My senses afflicted And trying ignore The pressure I fear Though let, in the core My feelings to steer And trying ignore The pressure I fear Though let, in the core My feelings to steer My tears of shame Do burn lustful eyes The punishment flame My shameful disguise Is rushing away From being restricted To mildly convey My senses afflicted And trying ignore The pressure I fear Though let, in the core My feelings to steer And trying ignore The pressure I fear Though let, in the core My feelings to steer
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