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  5. my brain Worked with a dim and undetermined sense Of...

my brain Worked with a dim and undetermined sense Of unknown modes of being; o'er my thoughts There hung a darkness, call it solitude Or blank desertion.

William Wordsworth
Thoughtful, Thinking, Darkness
William Wordsworth (1994). “The Collected Poems of William Wordsworth”, p.638, Wordsworth Editions
my brain Worked with a dim and undetermined sense Of unknown modes of being; o'er my thoughts There hung a darkness, call it solitude Or blank desertion.